Searching
by Ryuuko1
Summary: After his fight with the Time Devourer and return to his Home World, Serge finds himself listless and seeking confirmation that all his experiences were true and not just a dream, and so goes searching for the truth. GlennSerge. warning: shonen ai
1. Arni

Author: I was very dissapointed to see the lack of GlennSergeGlenn fics out there. So of course I went out and wrote a fic for my ChronoCross OTP! Non-betaed, but if anyone is up to the challenge, please tell me!

Disclaimer: Dude, who would think a video game created in Japan by Japanese people belongs to an American?

Leena had assured him many times that he had merely passed out on Opassa Beach, and that what he was saying about Chronopolis and Terra Tower had merely been a dream.

If it was a dream, then why did it haunt him? The blue eyes filled with determination, the absolute concentration in the heat of battle, the strength Serge knew he could count on...these things surely could not be phantoms from dreams. They were too real, too..._solid_ to be figments of his imagination.

Serge frowned and rolled over in his bed onto his stomach, face turned to look out the window. He could almost picture in his mind the corridors of Terra Tower, the dank, musky smell brought from the bottom of the ocean, a resting place for millenia. He juxtaposed it against the mechanical marvel of Chronopolis, of all the jagged corners and metal. Very different, yet set on the same goal; control the world, whether it be of Humans or Reptites. He knew in his gut that he had felt the chill tang of interest in the Dead Sea, felt the burns left by his fight with the Fire Dragon, the mute wonder after being returned to his self. He _knew_ he had stared down FATE and won. But with no-one to confirm, when Poshul denied all knowledge of it, Serge was left alone to ponder all that had happened to him.

The experience had left him changed, and he seemed to be the only one to realize that. Life went on around him in his home, yet he felt...distant from it. He woke up every day and helped bring in the catch, helped repair some aspect of someone's house, spent time with Leena, and felt all the while disconnected from it. He desired _some_ form of confirmation that he wasn't crazy, and he knew he would not find it in his village. Still, to leave a second time, when he had regained everything he thought he had lost...

One day, as he was sitting on the dock with Leena, watching the children play, he asked her if she ever thought of leaving the village.

She looked genuinely surprised. "No, not really. I mean, I've always planned on getting married, raising children, growing old, and dying here. I really don't care to leave. I'm happy here." A soft smile crossed her face as she watched the children play, and Serge knew that she saw her future children in the water instead of neighbors and siblings. She turned to him, and her smile left. "But you don't seem happy to be here anymore. I think that, at one point, my dream was your dream. But you...changed...since you gave me those Komodo scales," she murmured as she fingered the necklace she had made from the scales. "You're not content to be here anymore. You try hard to be at peace here, and everyone appreciates all that you're doing for them, but it's not hard to see that you have an itch to be doing something else. You're searching for something, even though I think you don't know it." She looked Serge in the eyes, and he looked away after holding her gaze for a moment, his eyes resting out to see. He told her that he was fine now, and would continue to be.

Leena shook her head and pushed him lightly. "Liar." She looked back out to sea, and sighed. "Go talk to Radius, than your mother. Maybe you'll figure things out for yourself by then."

Serge nodded and stood, catching his balance so he didn't fall off the dock and turned towards the village.

Radius had been with him, first as Lynx and then as himself, so perhaps he would remember?

Serge walked into the courtyard where Radius usually held his lessons, and looked around. It appeared he was in his office for once, and Serge entered the hut, wondering if Radius would be too busy to speak to him.

His old bones had been bother him, which was why he was inside, and Serge was grateful for that. There was only a few people in front of him, so Serge waited patiently, examining the scrolls and paintings on the walls. When it was finally his turn, Serge walked up to a smiling Radius.

"Oh-ho, I've heard you've been giving Leena a hard time of late, boy, moping around. It isn't like you."

Serge said he had a lot on his mind. With a hesitant pause, Serge asked if Radius knew anything about a character named "Lynx".

Radius's face darkned.

"Yes. He was the one who betrayed the Accacia dragoons, leading to the current Porre occupation."

Serge was crestfallen. Poshul he could excuse because she, after all, was only a dog. Radius, however, had a better memory, even though he was older.

"Why do you ask? Have you heard anything about him?" Radius asked, curious as to why a young boy would ask about such a monster.

Serge said he had heard some strange things and he wanted to know if Radius knew anything.

Radius was perplexed, but let the issue drop.

"Was that the only thing bothering you?"

Serge shook his head, and said that there were other things, but Leena insisted that they were only dreams. He, however, thought otherwise.

"Like...?"

Serge listed off the things he had come across that were pressing on his mind: Chronopolis, Terra Tower, the Dead Sea, the Other world...

Radius looked vaugely disturbed, yet intrigued. "I think Leena may be right; they could possibly be dreams. But it seems they are too detailed in your mind to be dreams, and that you can list them in far greater detail than one would be able to from a dream. Perhaps you did experience these things; I would not be surprised if the world did do such strange things." Radius looked over Serge carefully, noting the sadness in the boy's eyes.

"But there is more."

Serge shook his head and said it wasn't important.

"I think you lie, lad. But if you don't want to tell me, I won't make you. But I see it in your eyes that you want to seek confirmation of your experiences, even if you eventually discover that everything _was_ in fact just a dream. You should go talk to your mother about this, though. I'm certain she'll have things to say. Now, off with you."

Serge thanked Radius and left the hut, passing another person waiting for an audience. He left the shadowed hut into the bright sunlight, squinting his eyes as they adjusted. He'd go see his mother later. First he wanted to head to Opassa Beach, to see if the wormhole indeed existed.

He left the town, swallow in hand, and made his way down to Lizard Rock. He tred the familiar pathways, dodging Beach Bums and Sandsquirts, not in the mood to fight anything. After navigating the ledges and sand-trails, he exited onto Opassa Beach. He looked at the coral that he had passed through, then turned to the sea.

Everything was as it should be. He felt inside his pocket and withdrew the Astral Amulet.

This was the other reason he believed that everything had been real and not a dream. How else could he have possibly come by it? He walked slowly down the beach, carefully placing each step, hoping to find the tell-tale signs of the dimensional distortion. Yet, all he saw was sand. Nothing out of the ordinary for a beach. Just...sand, shells, sandcrabs, sea-birds. The usual. With a sigh, he replaced the Amulet in his pocket and turned to leave. Maybe he would never see the Other world again.

That meant he would never see that person again.

And that was what saddened him more than anything else.

---

Serge sat across from his mother at dinner, and ate in thoughtful silence.

He had decided he would leave for Termina. He _had_ to find out if he was crazy or not. His mother placed her utensils down and looked at Serge pointedly.

"Leena tells me something has been bothering you of late."

Serge affirmed this statement, and then added that he was going to leave for Termina in two days. His mother did not seem surprised at this.

"I suppose all boys leave home at some point. You _have_ been seeming ill-at-ease. You are no longer happy here, are you. You've somehow seen more, know more. Though how that happened, I don't know for sure. Fine. Gather your belongings, and I'll see you off. We'll have a large dinner tomorrow for good luck. Don't forget to say good-bye to your friends, though. Leena would be mad if you didn't."

Serge nodded and said he would. He was relieved that his mother had not tried to stop him, but he saw the knowledge in her eyes that he was, and yet was not, the son she remembered. Something _had_ changed in him, and she didn't know what to make of it. So she was letting him go.

---

Serge sighed as he finished packing his nessecities in a bag he could wear on his back. He did a recount in his head, wondering if he was missing anything.

No, he should have everything he needed. As he brought the pack down the staris with him, he realized that this would be the first time he was traveling alone. It was bitter-sweet somehow, but it also seemed like a natural progression. He placed his belongings next to the door, and felt his mother embrace him. He smiled slightly and put a hand on her arm.

"I don't want you to go, but I know you have to. Just...don't forget about me, okay?"

Serge nodded and said that he would never forget about her.

"Thank you," she said and pulled away. She kissed his cheek, and then shooed him out the door.

"If you don't leave now, I don't think I'll let you leave again."

Serge nodded, murmured a 'thank you' and an 'I love you' before walking out the door. He went over to the docks and saw Leena standing there, once again watching the children. He tapped her on her shoulder, and she looked him over.

"Leaving?"

Serge nodded.

"Take care of yourself. I hope you find what you're looking for. If you do, please come back and tell me. I want to know everything about it."

She gave Serge a watery smile. "See you later, Serge."

Serge bade her farewell and turned, walking off the dock. He stopped by briefly to give Poshul a good-bye pet and then turned to face the exit of the village.

This was it.

He was leaving for good.

And he would not come back until he had found what he was looking for.

Had found the person he was looking for.

—end chapter 1


	2. Termina

Serge felt no need to proceede quickly. There was no world to save this time around. Just his sanity, and he felt that one person's sanity wouldn't drastically effect the entire world.

Then again, if his life-and-death experience split the world in twain, he could imagine that him losing sanity might do something equally cataclysmic.

Which was why he was making the journey in the first place.

On impulse he wandered over to Cape Howl and, after removing some pesky monsters, made his way to the edge of the cliff. He knealt and looked down at the inscription he had wrote there, back when all he knew was Arni. Inscribed in the stone were his and Leena's names, and the promise to be together forever. Now he wanted to scratch out Leena's name and replace it with another, but that would be a disservice to memory, so he would not do it. There was indeed a time when he genuinely cared about her, and he wanted to remember that; it was a part of his past, and here was physical proof that it existed. He brushed away some sand and other debris from the stone, then stood and turned. He was leaving another relic of his past behind, in an attempt to move ever into the future.

He exited the Cape with little problems and joined the main road to Termina again. He would arrive near Fossil Valley by nightfall, and would spend the night outside of it before venturing into it the next day. The monsters were fewer and more tame outside the Valley, so it was a safer alternative to trying to make his way through the Valley in darkness.

He stopped at dusk and found a sheltered spot to set up camp. It was threatening rain, so he found the most protected space nearby. With a blanket wrapped around him, he leaned against the largest tree and looked up at the cloudy sky through the branches. It would have been nice to see the stars, but after being above all the clouds, flying with the help of Starky's anti-gravity device, the view from the ground would most likely not be as stunning anymore. He closed his eyes, leaning his head into his shoulder, and praying that it didn't rain too hard.

---

He awoke, mildly unhappy. He had been having a wonderful dream. What woke him up? He looked around and noticed that the deep darkness of night had fled and the murky light through cloudcover had arrived. He yawned and stretched before going through his pack for food. He had brought enough food to last him a while, nothing easily perishable and water. After his small breakfast, he repacked his bag and started off towards the Valley. It could be tricky footing, depending upon how hard and if it had rained over the Valley last night.

He walked carefully across the path, for even though well-worn, it still had tricks up its sleeve. The monsters were still hiding in their caves from the dampness, and Serge could pass unmolested. The Porre investigation had departed, and over the ridge Serge could just barely see the skelaton of Draggy's mother. With a small smile he turned his attention back to the Valley. He was still around a day from Termina, and had been alone with his thoughts for nearly a half-week now. He was generally taciturn, yes, but even he needed to speak with someone every now and then. It was hard to be alone with only your dreams to keep you company. Especially when the dreams are half-remembered and just a little discomforting. He sighed softly and continued on the path, dodging the reaching claws of hidden monsters. Finally breaking free from the narrow confines of the valley, an open plain fading into forest appeared before him. He stepped into the new terrain, continuing his journey, lost once again in his thoughts.

---

It took him another day and a half to reach Termina. He entered and looked around carefully.

Everything was as it should be in his Home World; more of a military base than a town. He walked up to the griffin statue where, in the Other world, the statue of General Viper stood, and placed a hand on an outstreatched leg. He remembered the dismay that the man in the Other world had when his precious state of General Viper had been replaced by the Porre griffin, and couldn't help but smile slightly.

That surely could not have been a dream.

He let his hand fall and looked out over the balcony. Before him stretched what seemed to be an endless expanse of water, fading into a grey/blue shimmer on the horizon. The air smelled of oil and salt, and Serge was reminded again that El Nido was under occupation by the main continent. This was not the El Nido he desired.

He turned away from the ocean view, and walked back to the main avenue. He leisurely passed the Element shop, dropping in for a quick look, just to make certain that everything was the same. He treated the bar and the inn to the same once-over before continuing towards the other end of town. On the way he passed countless houses and shops that he remembered, and once he had reached the perpendicular street to the one he was walking on, he turned. This was the walk to the Smithy and Van's house.

In this World, the Smithy should be closed, and Van should be poor.

As Serge walked along the canal, he saw that this was indded the case. No smoke rose from the chimney of the smithy, and the house at the end of the drive was small, grimy, and obviously in disrepair. Yes, he was indeed in his Home world.

Which was, in a way, depressing. Everything relied upon whether or not he could discover if the Other world _really_ existed. He stopped into the smithy to find the apprentice-turned-trader, talked with him for a few moments, discussing on how and why the smithy was closed. The apprentice was slightly surprised at how much Serge knew, but Serge shrugged it off as mere hear-say.

Serge left before Zappa could return to the shop, and exited into the courtyard where, in another dimension, he had retrieved the Hero's Medal for Pierre.

Again, however, this was elsewhere, and he needed to be in that particular elsewhere.

He left the yard and meandered over to the slightly decrepied house. He entered, and Van greeted him with some trepidation and bitterness.

"Are you the new rent-collector?"

Serge shook his head, and instead said that he was here to view the paintings. He told Van that he knew people who might be interested in a few.

Van quickly became more personable, almost hopeful. "Well, then, this way."

Gogh smiled faintly at his son's enthusiasm, and was happy that someone had come to give his son hope and a few moments of happiness in his life that was so consumed with finances.

After looking around, Serge commented that all the paintings were wonderful(which made Gogh happy), and said that although he wasn't going to buy any, he felt that such talent should be rewarded.

Serge took out a substantial amount of gold and handed it over in a small bag to Van.

Van stared with an open mouth at the amount of money he had given and couldn't even stutter a thank-you before Serge had left the house.

Serge felt that the gold he had retrieved from the other Van's house was well worth giving to the Van who was dealing with such hard times.

Again there popped up another mention of the Other world. The other world that he _had_ to find.

He walked back to the main street and stopped as he turned left.

Left was towards the shrines.

He was hesitant about going there, for reasons he couldn't fully explain to himself.

Nevertheless, he forced himself to go down there, just to check that everything was how it should be here.

He walked down the steps, the marble turning into dirt under his feet. He looked out at the waves gently caressing the shore, and smiled faintly.

If there was one constant in his life, it was that the ocean would always be the same, doing the same thing, over and over, neverending. His steps resounded dully as he walked across the wooden bridge, and were silenced as he stepped onto the sand-bar. He looked across the spiral and saw a lone sword standing as a silent tribute to the warriors who had wielded it before.

The Holy sword, Einlanzer.

Used by Garai, Dario, and him.

Serge walked around the spiral and stood in front of the sword, reading the inscription below it, detailing the names and dates of life and death of the two Dragoons who had weilded it. He looked up the sword slowly, and found himself mouthing the words that were inscribed on the sword itself.

He did not, could not have, instinctivly know the words' pronunciation or meaning. They would have had to been taught.

Taught by him.

It struck an odd chord in his being when he touched the sword, and a realization bubbled up behind his eyes that made him clutch his forehead and groan softly.

The blue eyes he had been seeing in his dreams had not belonged to Kidd.

They had belonged to Glenn.

---

Serge was sitting at a table in the bar, nursing a cup of whatever alcohol they had given him. He hadn't had to even ask for one; he supposed that the emotional shock was visible enough on him that they had pitied him.

The stuff was strong, he supposed, because he could finally look at the situation through a delightful haze that numbed his recognition of the implications.

He had thought he was straight for oh, eighteen years or so. He had been quasi-dating Leena for a year or two, and then life had seemed intent on pushing him and Kidd together. So he had tried to develop feelings for both girls, and had thought he had succeded.

That apparently was not the case, though.

He tried to turn back his mental clock and look through all the experiences he had. His first meeting with Kidd...his first refusal to travel with her. He supposed that experience was in loyalty to Leena. It would have been awkward for him traveling alone with another girl, and yet remain faithful to Leena. At least, he figured that was what his justification had been.

Kidd had managed to worm her way into his life, though, and they ended up traveling together. He rarely was with her though; he was content to let her wander on her own, and she seemed to not mind it.

And then there was when she was striken with the Hydra Poison.

He had given up on her. It was before he knew of his ability to traverse dimensions, yes, but she had trusted him to do what he thought was right.

And he had given up on her. He had felt helpless, and so did not act.

It was only by a one in a billion chance that a stranger happened to bring the antidote to the poison to Guldove. Serge was grateful, yes, and relieved that a friend's life was saved, but Kidd was _only_ a friend.

He turned his mind to the time when his body had been switched, and pondered that series of events.

Yes, he was saddened by the death he felt Kidd had suffered, once again finding himself powerless to do anything to help her. Every time she was in danger, he could not assist her.

A darker, more cynical part of Serge murmured that it also was a testament to how bad she was at taking care of herself.

Skipping over that experience, he thought about his travels as Lynx.

And was startled to find that he had not missed her. She had not been a void in his life, had not been a yearning to have her returned to his side. He remembered her, now and then, but most of the memories were hazy, and easily pushed aside. He found himself laughing tightly, softly, at how, when everything was added up, she was nothing to him. Just an aquantance, a person he cared for like a sister, or a friend.

But nothing more.

No, the blue eyes haunting his dreams were not hers.

Nor, as he thought back, could they have possibly been any other female's. The only other girl he remembered who had blue eyes was Marcy, and she was a child, the sister of Nikki. No, they was not her eyes.

He could not believe it possible, but the eyes he remembered, belonged to another male.

With a frustrated frown he took another sip of the alcohol–absolutely disgusting–and rested his head on the arm laying on the table.

Maybe traveling to discover what he was missing hadn't been such a good idea afterall.

The moment after he thought that, he shook himself inwardly and raised his head off the table to take another sip.

What, was he going to shy away from some emotional upheaval over something as trivial as this when he had discovered that he was dead in another world, Lynx had been a quasi-incarnation of his father, that he had destroyed FATE, and defeated the Time Devorer?

The answer, regretably, was yes.

He finished the drink and tried to stand.

It took him three attempts to have him steady on his feet, and that was leaning heavily on the table. He felt someone help steady him, and, looking over, feared to see Kidd, or worse, Glenn.

No, just the bartender.

She was giving him a pitying glance and helped him to the doorway before calling for a Porre soldier and giving him orders to take Serge to the inn and deposit him on a bed. The soldier, after being a little huffy about being ordered around by a woman(no matter how attractive), did as he was told and dumped Serge on a bed in the inn as quickly as possible. Serge rolled over onto his back so he didn't suffocate from having his face in the pillow.

With a great amount of effort and more than a few misses, he managed to take off his boots and chucked them onto the floor, his bag slithering to the floor out of his grasp.

This would all make more sense in the morning when he was feeling painfully real.

---

A night's rest and a few painkillers later, Serge was ready to ponder the "why _glenn_?" aspect of his situation as he ate some nearing-stale bread for breakfast.

He thought back to the first time he had seen the young man.

He was the first person he saw when he walked into Termina. He was standing in front of the flower-seller's stand. The warrior standing in front of domesticity. Part of a gentle scene, yes, but his sword and armor jarred with it. Gentle and dangerous. He had watched Glenn leave, his stride smooth and sure, though a little dissapointed.

Serge had looked at the bellflower in his pocket, and had wondered if the young man would accept it from him.

He had been distracted by a few details, but he made certain to seek out the young warrior, out of curiosity initally. He had made his way to the shrines, and saw him standing on a shell-shaped sandbar next to a young lady. He had listened in on their conversation, and, when the young man asked for the flower Serge had, Serge was pleased to give it to him free of charge. The original intention was generosity and an interest in the gentle side of the warrior. He cared for the woman next to him, and also for the memory of the dead. Both rare in the warriors Serge had encountered before. He had watched the pair leave, more intrigued than he had been before, but was faced with other decisions to make.

The next time he had seen the young man was after he had given up on Kidd. He and his friends had just re-arrived in Termina, and Macha had offered them use of her boat. Glenn had come up asking for its use, and Macha had regretably told him that she had just leant it over to Serge. Macha had come up with the idea that Glenn travel with them, and Serge was more than happy to accept him into his little band.

From then on, he had traveled with Glenn, up to the point when he was forcibly seperated by the body-switch and was cut off from all those he had previously befriended.

He thought as he cleaned his shoes and checked his bag, and came to a conclusion that was disquieting.

Whenever he had thought the situation of body-retrieval was hopeless, the reminder of the loss of his friends(Glenn in particular) drove him to keep on searching for a way to return to his self.

It was Glenn, always. Not Kidd. Kidd would show up eventually in his mind, yes, but the person he thought of first and foremost was always Glenn.

He _knew_ he could count on Glenn. He was determined, he was strong, he could take care of himself. However, he was also gentle, kind, and protective. He succeded in so many places that Kidd failed.

Kidd had to be protected.

Glenn protected and allowed himself to be protected.

Kidd was not gentle; Serge doubted she really knew the meaning of the word. She had her moments of kindness, yes, but she always seemed in it for herself only. She mattered first before anyone else, and it was only after she was sure she was secure would she even bother to see what other people thought or felt. Serge could vaugely understand that mentality from what he had seen of her past, but it was no excuse for her currently selfish behavior.

Glenn had that pleasing mix between contained danger and gentleness, both warrior and man. And Glenn had _strength_. If one was able to weild the Holy Swords, one had to be strong. The fact that Glenn was recognized by them said volumes about both his character and his fighting prowress.

Serge finished cleaning his swallow and sighed.

Maybe he swung that way, but just for Glenn. He had never felt such a fierce comraderie before, had never felt attracted to someone before outside of their looks. As he slowly looked over his experiences, he decided that really, it should have been obvious to him.

But one will not see what one does not want to see.

Serge stood and slipped on his shoes, slung his bag over his shoulder and readjusted the sling that held his swallow across his back.

Fine.

Now, more than ever, he had to find a way into the Other world. He wanted to confirm if he really felt the way he did, or if it was just a productive of an overactive imagination.

He palmed the Astral Amulet and walked back to the shrines, where the Einlanzer stood. He walked carefully across the sandbar, and stood in front of the sword. He touched it and felt a jolt through his body and jerked away, thenlooked, mildly alarmed at his hand. The Astral Amulet was glowing faintly, the glow in rhythm with his pulse. He looked back at the Einlanzer and reached out to touch it again. He felt the jolt again, but this time kept his hand on the sword. Around him he felt the strange non-wind that signified the dimensional distortion in his mind.

'But it never reacted like this before...'

A small smile graced his face. 'Who cares why it's happening? If it will bring me there, I'll take it.'

He closed his eyes and felt the sickening lurch that signified his slide into the Other world. Maybe now, he would find the answers he was looking for.


	3. Bellflowers

When he finally came to, he was inside the small shack near he shrine. A little girl looked over at him, obviously hearing him wake up and Serge registered that he knew her. When Greco came in he remembered.

Right.

She lived with Greco here.

"Well, amigo, looks like you've woken up. Gave us a surprise you did, appearing out of thin air. Originally I thought you were a ghost, but you're flesh and blood enough. Felt that when I carried you in here." Greco sat down with a small sigh across from Serge as Serge struggled into a sitting position.

Perhaps getting wasted the day before traveling through dimensions wasn't the best of ideas.

"What's your name, amigo?"

Serge murmured his name, still a little woozy.

"Serge, huh? Interesting name." Greco leaned back and regarded Serge, who let his hands fall from massaging his temples.

"Care to tell me how you got here?"

Serge told him no, not really.

Greco smiled wryly. "I see. Well, I'll let you recover here. You can leave when you feel better. We don't have many guests here."

Serge nodded and laid back down, throwing a hand over his eyes.

His headache and the sparkles that were formed when his arm pressed a little too hard over his eyes assured him that he was indeed physically in the Other world.

Wait. If he was in the Other world, what was he doing here? He had people to look for! He removed his arm and then recalled his conversation.

Greco had asked him his name.

That meant the people here too might not remember everything he had gone through...

Serge prayed to whatever decided to listen to the Chrono Trigger that Glenn remembered. Because he didn't want to start all over again.

Serge slowly sat up again and took inventory of his aches and pains.

A muffled headache, some bruises from where he fell strangely exiting the vortex. His bag had thankfully come with him, as had his swallow, though his back hurt from having it fall on him. After being fed and having some time to readjust to the Other world's weather(which was vastly different from that of his Home world. In Home Termina it was sunny. Here it was cloudy, with a chill wind coming off the ocean. Rain seemed to be in the future), he decided he'd head off.

"Come back some day. I think you'd be interesting to talk to."

Serge promised that he would, eventually, but that he didn't know when. He had people to look for.

"Good luck, amigo. May the blessings of the Gods go with you."

Serge smiled wryly as he exited the shack.

No "gods" anymore. No "goddesses" either. He would just have to muddle along with no divine intervention.

Though now was one of those times he wished there was.

He walked up the stairs, re-adjusting the weight distribution on his back, and sighed, but a smile touched his lips. He was one step closer to finding the resolution he was looking for.

At the top of the stairs he looked around, confirming that he was indeed in the Other world.

Yup.

Shops set up leftover from the Viper Festival. The trader with the 'mermaid', the portrait artist, the late-comer, the Fortune teller. Down the street he saw the smoke rise from the active smithy and the large house of painter-Van, business-Gogh. Everything was the Other World. He smiled in relief, then remembered the flower-seller. He had met Glenn there before. Perhaps he would be lucky and meet him there again.

He was too dignified to run, but did walk _very_ quickly to the flower-seller.

No, not there.

But the flower-seller was in a tizzy about something, which intrigued Serge. She kept on murmuring something about there 'not being enough bellflowers for the wedding.'

Serge asked whose wedding she was talking about.

"Oh, Sir Dario's and Miss Riddle's. They're inviting the public which, while very sweet, requires a greater number of bellflowers then I'm used to needing. But just a little more!"

How much more? Serge inquired.

"Oh, only 5. But they're so hard to find! I fear that I've exhausted Fossil Valley, but that's the only place they grow. And there are so many monsters there..." she fretted.

Serge offered to find the other five for her.

The flower-seller was shocked. "You'd really do that for me?"

Serge said that as long as he got a good view of the wedding, he'd be happy to.

The flower-seller smiled. "Of course! Now, remember, bellflowers are delicate, so be very careful!"

Serge nodded and turned to exit the city.

Perhaps he would see Glenn at the wedding.

---

Serge wiped the sweat off his face as he rested against a shadowed wall of rock. It was always so hot in Fossil Valley, no matter the time of year. He was also getting good exercise; the flower-vendor had been right, there _were_ a lot of monsters. Nothing he couldn't handle, yes, but still too much for his liking.

He was searching for the last bellflower now. It was getting on in the day, and it was unwise to stay in Fossil Valley after nightfall. It was dangerous enough during the day.

After he had caught his breath he stood and looked around. There ought to be one in this part of the valley. It was the only place he hadn't looked.

As he walked carefully through the spare plant-life, he heard a shriek and, before he could think, he was running towards it. A giant monster, a type he had never seen before, was closing in on a figure he couldn't entirely make out. He jumped and, with a fierce downward cut, managed to slice the monster half-way. He was disappointed, but when he saw another slice continue it, tearing the monster in two and getting him, the captive, and whomever else had helped, covered in monster blood(though Serge was very careful to make certain the bellflowers were not effected; he had looked hard enough for them).

When he turned and looked at the two others who were with him, he encountered two people he never thought he'd see again. Two pairs of blue eyes, one looking at him confused, the other surprised.

Glenn and Kidd.

Serge sighed inwardly. One person he wanted to see, the other he didn't.

Glenn looked at him, and his brow furrowed. It appeared he was thinking something over. Serge turned to Kidd who looked at him indignantly.

"I could have handled that meself, y'know! You two guys didn't hafta butt in like that!"

Serge shrugged and gave her a small smile, saying that he couldn't help but want to help out someone in danger.

His eyes then slowly turned to Glenn, and when their eyes locked, he saw Glenn's eyes widen in semi-recognition and confusion.

"Serge?" he asked softly, obviously confused that he could attach a name to the face.

Serge had to keep himself from smiling too widely. He nodded, affirming that was indeed his name.

"Serge, eh? Strange name," Kidd said, not having picked up on the undercurrents. "Well, thanks for helping me, mate. Same to you, dragoon." Kidd dusted herself off and sheathed her dagger, which looked insignificant next to the Einlanzers and Serge's spectral swallow. "I'll be off now." She waved at them casually as she continued down the path. Serge and Glenn both waited until she was out of sight and hearing range, accounting for possible echoes.

"Serge, right?"

Serge nodded.

"Why should I know your name? I don't think we've met before and yet..."

Serge smiled and finished the sentence, saying that it feels like we've met before, hasn't it?

Glenn nodded and sheathed the Einlanzers in special sheathes he made.

"What has you here?" Glenn asked, obviously continuing to try and place Serge.

Serge told him that he was here looking for bellflowers for the flower-vendor. She said something about needing some for a wedding...

Glenn's eyes widened marginally.

"I had forgotten about that..." he murmured. "I've been on active duty for so long that I missed much of the news. Ever since I inherited the Holy Swords...I rarely have a moment's peace."

Serge gave him a sympathetic smile. Well, he was off-duty now, right?

"Actually," Glenn said, trailing off slightly, a slight tone of annoyance creeping into his voice. "I'm here to look into the monster problem we've been having here. The monster that attacked that girl right now? It's not the normal ones that pop up here. It's stronger, more dangerous." A wry smile touched his lips. "So they send me out to do it. Well, I guess I prefer being active. Karsh has told me I've seemed moody of late, so getting me out this much doesn't allow me to think too deeply about _why_ I've been so pensive of late."

Serge nodded, and said that besides being on a trip to retrieve bellflowers, he was also looking for something.

"I see," Glenn said with a small nod.

Serge smiled faintly, softly, and the two began the search for the last bellflower.

---

After climbing a few walls, falling down a few slopes, thrashing a few monsters, and receiving a few scrapes for their troubles, they managed to locate a bellflower on the edge of a cavern. Serge gently picked it and, with an inaudible sigh, put it in the carrier that he had all the other flowers in. When he turned around, Glenn was looking at the sky, frowning.

"It's near dark. I didn't think it would take so long. It'd be too dangerous to return to the main path now; we'd get lost or seriously injured." With a long hesitation that bespoke his dislike of staying in the valley, he finally murmured, "I think it would be best to stay here for the night."

Serge stood and looked up at the sky, and reluctantly agreed. He had wished to return the bellflowers to the vendor today, but it appeared that wouldn't be happening.

Glenn gave him a small smile. "The flowers should last the night, if not longer. They're surprisingly resilient for such delicate-looking flowers."

Glenn set about searching the cave for any potential threats, and Serge looked for a part of the wall that might have some water trickling down it. He could at least place the flowers near there.

After he had found a spot, he went back to the mouth to find Glenn leaning against the wall, looking at him quizzically.

"I wonder how I know you, and why it feels like I can trust you."

Serge gave him a wry smile and sat down across from him, and said that Glenn wouldn't believe him if he told him.

"Really?" Glenn asked.

Serge nodded.

There was a pause as Glenn thought.

"Tell me anyway."

Serge nodded and began to describe the adventure that he, Glenn, and various others had undergone. Glenn's frown grew deeper and deeper as the story continued, and when Serge finished with their battle against the Time Devourer, and the Chrono Cross, Glenn sat silent for some time, which was torture to Serge.

Would he remember, or would he just discount the tale entirely?

After for what seemed like an eternity, Glenn sighed.

"It shouldn't make sense; the tale seems so...absurd. But..." Glenn looked at Serge, his eyes confused. "...it feels...true. Like it did happen." The frown slowly faded from his face. "I guess that's how I knew your name, right? And why I've been feeling...alone. I think in the beginning I remembered everything, but as I tried to talk about it with other people, they kept on saying it was just a dream, or tried to get me to rest, or keep me occupied, so it faded. But I guess, now that you're here, I have someone who shares it with me." A small, sarcastic laugh passed his lips. "It's good not to feel like I'm crazy anymore."

Serge nodded, and smiled, trying to comfort and reassure. He told Glenn that he had been having the same problem, which is why he had been searching for a way into this world.

"How _did_ you get here?"

Serge replied that he used the dimensional vortex.

"Right, I remember," Glenn murmured.

Serge was relieved that he didn't have to tell _where_ the vortex was.

Glenn looked out at the deepening sky, his posture pensive.

"I'll take first watch. We don't want to be surprised by any of the new monsters while we sleep."

Serge nodded and agreed that being surprised would be bad, and offered to take the first watch instead.

"No, I'll be fine. I'm wide awake anyway."

Serge nodded and pulled his blanket out of his bag, and arranged a few stones and sparse plant life around him so that he might be a little more comfortable as he slept.

Within a few minutes he was deep asleep.

---

Glenn watched Serge sleep, then turned to look at the sky.

Was _that_ what had been bothering him all this time? The tale that would be too far-fetched to believe, yet which struck an odd chord in him? Glenn settled himself as comfortably as possible against the hard stone wall, moving the Holy Swords so that they didn't dig into uncomfortable places, and thought.

Why, and how, could this young man convince him so easily that everything he said was true? Why was he able to remind him of his experiences, while the others, Karsh, Zoah, Marcy, Miss Riddle, could not? Were they not also part of the drama that had taken place?

No, the memories were stirred only by this young man, the one whom everything had centered around.

Was that why he felt so comfortable around him? Why it felt only natural that they fight and work side-by-side? It was confusing, but it felt like a constant. Serge had said that before he had been transformed into Lynx and after he had regained his self, they had worked together almost exclusively. There had been other people who had cycled in and out of the three-person group, but it had been always him and Serge.

Glenn looked at the Holy Swords, and everything clicked.

Why would _he_ have been gifted with the swords when Dario had been returned to them? Would not they still be his? Yet Dario had allowed Glenn to keep it, as puzzled as he himself was. If Glenn had them, he was obviously _meant_ to have them. So Glenn had kept them without really knowing why.

But if what Serge said was true...then he _had_ inherited the swords. They _were_ supposed to be his. He tilted his head back so it rested on the wall, eyes up to the ceiling.

They had destroyed Fate. Had eliminated the Dragon Gods. It all made sense, now, why the climate had changed, why people seemed to alter. There had been reports coming in of the Fate-cubes giving nothing but static, leaving people confused. Their lives suddenly were governed by chance rather than a set path. Glenn could see how that would be an issue. He had never used one himself; he liked to think that he could make choices on his own.

The mysterious and abrupt disappearance of Lynx was also accounted for by Serge's tale.

But why was he and Serge the only one to remember?

After a half hour of pondering that question, it came to him.

_The others had not fought the Time Devourer._

He imagined that Fargo would also remember everything; he had been the other person to defeat it with them.

Fargo might not discount the tale, though. He was a pirate, and pirates were superstitious beings. He would have less trouble believing everything that had happened to him was real. That made him idly ponder that if he and Serge visited the SS Invincible, would Fargo recognize them?

He found himself growing tired, and after he had to squelch a yawn for the fifth time in a row, he gently shook Serge awake.

"I need sleep."

Serge nodded and slowly sat up. He asked if Glenn had anything to keep him warm, and Glenn shook his head.

"But I'll be fine. I have more clothing than you. Keep it for yourself," Glenn murmured as he curled up in a hollow. He was more exhausted than he had thought. As he fell asleep, the last thing he saw was Serge looking at him with a strange light in his eyes.

---

The next morning dawned clear, with a biting wind howling through the canyons in the Valley. Serge lightly shook Glenn awake, and waited until Glenn was more or less lucid to tell him that it was time they moved on. Glenn nodded and stood slowly, working out the kinks in his back that resulted from sleeping in an awkward position. Once Serge had shared a meager breakfast with Glenn, the two headed out in the pre-dawn light.

---

The flower-seller was relieved to see Serge return with the five bellflowers she needed, though she was a little surprised to see his companion.

"Sir Glenn! What a pleasant surprise. How do you feel about your brother finally getting married? Isn't it a miracle that he found his way back to the manor after all these years?"

"It's a miracle indeed. I'm very happy he's returned."

Serge watched Glenn interact with the flower-vendor and couldn't help but smile. Glenn was such a kind person. It was odd to see in such an intense warrior, but the difference was what made Glenn interesting to Serge.

Serge waited until the conversation to be over, then asked Glenn if he was still going to look into the monster problem.

"No, not anymore. My brother's wedding is soon, and I don't know how long it will take me to get there. Afterwards, it depends on what they want me to do."

Serge asked him if he thought it would be comprised of more busy-work.

Glenn shook his head, then looked at Serge thoughtfully.

"Come with me. You did so much to help everyone, especially Dario, so I think you deserve to at least meet them..."

Serge interpreted the pause as 'even if they don't remember you.'

Serge nodded and thanked Glenn, and the flower-vendor was pleasantly surprised.

"I didn't know Sir Glenn knew many people outside the dragoons."

Glenn gave her a patient smile, and said, "Serge and I met under...special circumstances."

"I see," said the flower-vendor, even though she didn't understand at all. "Well, now that I have these, the flowers for the wedding are all accounted for! Say, Sir Glenn, why don't you and your handsome friend escort me to the manor?"

The vendor was kidding, but Glenn nodded and accepted. The vendor was shocked, then blushed.

"Oh, I'll feel like a young girl again!"

Glenn smiled kindly and Serge allowed his amusement to show. The flower vendor went off to gather her things and Serge and Glenn were left standing near the flowers, silent, but comfortable.

"It shouldn't be that long of a trip, and because the road is so well-traveled, there won't be many monsters." A weary smile passed over Glenn's face. "A much-needed rest for me."

Serge nodded slightly and let his eyes roam around the marketplace, trying his best not to fixate solely on Glenn.

Glenn had believed him!

Serge let his eyes roam the sky, picking out all the different shades of gray in the sky. A storm was brewing off the ocean. He could smell it. It was not a dangerous storm, though. Not like the storm in the Dead Sea, or surrounding Terra Tower. Those places smelled dangerous. This was simply rain. Not destiny.

"It looks like it's going to rain, doesn't it?"

Serge looked over to Glenn, who seemed pensive as he spoke. "It wouldn't do to rain on my brother's wedding day, would it?"

Serge said that hopefully it would pass Viper Manor by.

"It probably will. The Manor does not get many storms this time of year. I think that's why Dario and Miss Riddle chose now to have their wedding."

A wry smile touched Glenn's lips. "Though Karsh is sad. He's always loved Miss Riddle, but she chose Dario over him. It will be a bitter-sweet day for him."

Serge nodded. And what about him? Would Glenn be saddened by the day?

Glenn looked surprised, and thought. "I never _loved_ Miss Riddle. Cared for her, yes, but I didn't desire her. I wanted to protect her because my brother would have, not because of any personal emotion."

What about his brother?

"Dario?" Glenn paused. "I have missed Dario. But, in the time between his 'death' and his coming back to us, I've grown. I search in him for the _memory_ of my brother and, failing to find it, have had to adapt to the person he has become. He, however, still sees me as his little brother. I don't think it's registered yet to him that _I_ have changed."

Serge looked at him, and saw the sadness and desire to prove that he had grown in Glenn.

"Even now, when the Holy Swords are mine, I don't think he recognizes that I'm a _dragoon_ now, not just a child. So, how do I feel about his wedding? Happiness, for him and Miss Riddle. It will make him forget me more, though, I fear. He will have Miss Riddle beside him, and is considering retiring from the dragoons. He says he's gotten rusty, but I think it is because he'd rather raise a family than fight." Glenn sighed. "Why I am burdening you with this nonsense? It does not matter how I feel. This will be a day Dario will never forget, and I plan on doing what is expected of me." Glenn nodded to add finality to that statement, and Serge just looked at him and thought.

Glenn had always lived in his brother's shadow. When his brother was gone, he had had time to change, but now that Dario was back, it seemed like people's opinion and perception of Glenn had faded back into what it had once been. Glenn, even with his strength, kindness, and his skill with the Holy Swords, was once more ignored. Wondered how he could comfort Glenn when he had never had the same problem. He had never experienced anything like what Glenn had; he had been an only child, and had grown up in a small fishing village. The only memory he had to live up to was how good a fisherman his father was, and he believed that his mother had always seen something else in store for him than a boat, nets, and fish. Before Serge could say anything, the flower seller had returned, a bag slung over one shoulder, a smile on her face.

"Are you ready, my dears?"

Glenn and Serge nodded and turned almost at the same time, placing the flower-seller between them.


	4. Wedding Day

The trip was uneventful; as Glenn had said, the roads were clear enough since they were well-traveled, and any monster they saw was always in the distance and wary of two armed young men. The flower-vendor was more than happy to fill the silence for Glenn and Serge, and in doing so kept herself occupied; it didn't seem to matter to her that the two young men rarely answered her. They reached the Manor in short order, and were greeted with relaxed guards, who, recognizing Glenn let them in without a fuss, and told Glenn to give their regards to Dario.

The wedding was to take place in two days.

Glenn and Serge left the flower-vendor with the other people involved in organizing the decorations, and went off to the practice fields, where there was little activity. Glenn sat down on a bench and sighed, unbuckling the Holy Swords.

"I ought to go see my brother."

Serge told Glenn that it seemed like he didn't want to.

"He'll be busy. I shouldn't disturb him."

Was there any other reason Glenn was avoiding doing so?

Glenn looked up at Serge and smiled faintly. "Probably." He looked at Serge, and a thought hit him.

"You have no place to stay around here, do you?"

Serge shook his head.

Glenn frowned and thought. "I suppose I'll be able to get you a spot in the barracks. If not, I'm certain that the stable-master might know other places you can stay."

Serge nodded and thanked Glenn.

"How long are you planning to stay?"

Serge answered that he would stay as long as Glenn would let him.

Glenn looked surprised. "As long as _I _let you? Shouldn't you take that up with the General?"

"Take what up with me?"

Glenn and Serge both jumped a little, surprised, and Glenn was on his feet in a millisecond.

"General!"

"Relax, boy. I see you're back from patrol. Have you come to any conclusions?"

Glenn looked thoughtful, and then slowly shook his head. "The matter bears more looking into. I still do not know what could have caused the mutation, nor the increase in aggression even in the usual monsters."

"Very well, then. Keep on searching for the answer. I'm sure you'll be able to discover the cause."

"Thank you, General."

Serge could tell that although Glenn was glad the General thought highly of him, he was not looking forward to returning to the Valley.

"And who is this young man?" the General asked, turning to face Serge.

Glenn looked at Serge, then the General. "His name is Serge, General. He is from the village of Arni, which lies on the cove near Hydra marshes."

"Ah. So, Serge, what brings you here?"

Serge said that he had helped the flower-vendor collect some bellflowers, and in doing so met Glenn, who he knows. Glenn had helped him in a fight against some monsters in the Valley, and had told him about the new problem. After that, they had left the Valley together, delivered the flowers, and had come here. He had come along because he was searching for something to do. He wanted to know if the General would kindly give him boarding, and as payment, Serge would be happy to do whatever missions the General needed another person working on.

The General looked Serge over, noticing his Spectral Swallow, his much-used armor, and the strength in his body.

"Very well. It will be nice to have another warrior at hand. Porre has been restless of late, and I fear that we may need to fight them soon. Until then, though, I know what you can do. I will allow you to room here as long as you agree to help Glenn with his research into the monster problem in the Valley."

Serge couldn't have wished the situation to go any better. He nodded solemnly, though, and accepted with thanks. What he really wanted to do was cheer, but he had more control than that.

"Now, Glenn, don't forget to pay a visit to your brother." As he turned to leave, he paused and looked at Glenn again. "It will be good to have you working with someone else. I hope you will realize that you need not take care of everything on your own."

Glenn merely nodded, confused.

Serge smiled slightly, noticing Glenn's momentary puzzlement.

"Well, I suppose I should go. Why don't you find an empty bunk for yourself? Since I know you know your way around the place."

Serge smiled wryly at the last statement when he heard the muted sarcasm in Glenn's voice. Glenn turned and headed back towards the Manor, his swords hung in their sheathes, looking a little too big for Glenn's more lithe frame. Serge watched him until he disappeared from sight, and sighed.

Find a place to sleep.

Sounded like a marvelous idea. Especially when a bed was involved. When was the last time he had slept on a mattress?

When he had been so drunk the barkeeper had pity on him and paid for his stay in the inn for the night. Right.

Serge sighed at that memory, a sheepish smile touching his lips. He was not going to have that experience again anytime soon.

Serge sighed and readjusted his swallow and pack on his back and walked to the Manor proper.

---

Serge sat wearily down on an unclaimed bed and shoved his pack beneath the bed frame. He knew what would happen if he left it in the open; someone would rifle through it and take what they wanted. So hiding it was the best bet. He placed his swallow against the wall, positioning it so that the tip didn't gouge into the wood flooring, nor would it would its edge by rubbing against the stone wall. He sighed and looked around. It was strange being in a barracks. He had never had such an experience before. He shucked off his boots, and removed his gloves, sticking them in the shoes. He untied his kerchief and removed his denadorite mail, and shoved them all under the bed to prevent any thefts. He threw the blankets down and swung his legs around so he was lying on the bed. With a sigh he dragged the blankets over his tired body, but he only got halfway before he was out cold.

---

He awoke and tensed. Where was he?

When he finally got his bearing he relaxed.

The Manor. Right.

He sighed inwardly. He was unused to sleeping indoors with no viable windows. He slowly sat up and noticed that the lights were turned down low. It was either late at night or near morning. How long had he been sleeping? He turned and rested his feet on the floor and winced at how cold the stone was. He reached under his bed and drew out his shoes and gloves. He didn't think he'd need his vest, but he was careful enough to bring his swallow. He walked quietly out of the barracks and exited into the hallway. The hallway was still well-lit and he gave his eyes a moment to adjust before walking towards the exit.

He was restless now that he was awake. He left the building and exited into soft, pre-dawn light. He stood on the steps behind the sentries for a long moment, just absorbing the gentle air before walking behind them towards the practice courts. He had never really explored that part of the Manor; one tended to avoid it if one did not wish to get caught. He turned a corner and saw a figure moving in the gray light. He tensed and one hand went to the handle of his swallow. He walked carefully, softly, out from behind the building, advancing slowly. When his eyes could finally make out the person, he relaxed considerably.

It appeared he wasn't the only one who was awake and not a sentry.

He leaned on the barrier between the courts and the rest of the Manor's campus, and watched Glenn practice.

Serge could tell he had begun recently; his movements were still a little jerky; apparently he wasn't completely warmed up yet. The rhythm was soothing and familiar, though; it was the basic kata that any warrior first learned, no matter what the weapon. A succession of blocks, parries, and blows that were deliberate and careful. If the warrior wished to make it harder, they would proceed to speed the kata up, making it more taxing to move quickly, yet efficiently. Serge watched as Glenn did just that, though the kata was admittedly more complex because of the use of two swords. Serge sat there silently and waited until Glenn had pushed the kata to its limit. It took a moment or two longer for Glenn to notice he was there.

Serge commented that Glenn's form had been very good.

Glenn shrugged. "It's still not good enough."

Good enough for what?

Glenn shook his head. "For me. For _anyone_. They expect a lot from the wielder of the Holy Swords."

Serge nodded slightly, and then offered to spar with Glenn.

Glenn looked surprised. "You would?"

Serge nodded.

Glenn paused and thought for a moment. "A swallow is an unusual weapon; you don't often come by it. It's almost like two swords; you always have to be on the lookout for the other side." Glenn nodded. "It will be good practice. You need to warm up first, though." Glenn gestured towards the empty ring and Serge hopped the fence, being careful not to get his swallow caught. Glenn walked off to one of the sides, and stretched to keep his muscles warm while Serge ran through the same basic kata until he felt he was ready. He turned and looked at Glenn and nodded before walking to the side opposite Glenn and falling into his stance. Glenn walked and fell into his own stance across the court from Serge and they looked at each other, each still for what seemed an eternity.

Then they moved.

---

Karsh was going to the practice courts to work out his depression over the coming marriage of Lady Riddle to Dario. He wanted to be able to attend it while not being in a sour mood. Dario had asked him to be his man-of-honor anyway, and he didn't want to spoil the occasion. When he turned to corner to the practice courts, he frowned. Someone was already there. No, two people were already there. And sparring. Karsh frowned, but walked over, wondering who would be crazy enough to spar this early in the morning. His vision resolved the two figures to be Glenn and another young man–the new recruit that Glenn had brought with him. What was his name again?

Karsh watched the match, and slowly smirked. It wasn't that fair of a match; it seemed the two already knew the other's moves, so neither would be surprised by any technique used.

He leaned against the fence, propping his axe against a post. It was actually an interesting match; Karsh had not known that Glenn was so strong, or so skilled. The young man had seemed to change drastically in the span of a night, and none of the dragoons had any good answer as to why.

Then again, he didn't seem too surprised when Dario had returned to them. Glenn hadn't acted _jaded_ as much as with an 'it's about time' reaction. Like he had known all along that Dario was still alive. But how? Before he changed, he had seemed as convinced as anyone else that Dario was dead. But the Glenn he was watching now was a truly different Glenn, and it was more than just from spending time chasing monsters in various parts of the main continent in El Nido. This Glenn was utterly sure in his movements, was swift, strong, and in a way, alarmingly unforgiving. He was giving his partner no quarter, but the other young man wasn't holding back either. Karsh was puzzled and intrigued by the stranger's weapon, but saw how it would give Glenn a good work-out, since it was almost like wielding two swords. Not many people had the guts, or skill, to use a double-edged weapon. Karsh found that he was unable to decide the winner, and knew that any comment he made could possibly result in deadly consequences, so he merely watched. He felt someone come up behind him and knew without looking that it was Dario. Dario settled next to Karsh, obviously amused. He watched and Karsh felt his amusement change to interest turn to alarm.

"Glenn has changed, hasn't he?" Karsh threw as an off-hand remark.

"Yes, he has," Dario answered almost mechanically, riveted on the scene before him. Karsh turned his attention back to the duel as well.

"You haven't seen him in years, have you? He's become quite a dragoon since then. I've heard the General's considering making him a Deva, since he has inherited the Einlanzers..."

Dario nodded slightly, but Karsh wasn't sure Dario had heard.

The match before them came to a grinding halt when both weapons caught on the other, pinning their owners together, unable to move lest they risk losing a limb. Or two.

Karsh clapped languidly, making the two young men start and look at him.

"Brother! Sir Karsh...I hadn't known you were watching."

The other young man looked at the two spectators in something that came close to sullen before he and Glenn figured out how to maneuver each other so that they didn't hurt each other. Once disentangled, Glenn walked over and saluted his elders, and sheathed the Einlanzers without even bothering to look. Karsh was impressed. It seemed that Glenn knew how to handle the two swords better than he had given him credit for.

"Were you planning on using this field? I'm sorry if I seemed inconsiderate."

Karsh smirked inwardly. 'He doesn't want to implicate it was the other guy's fault; he _would _do something like that.'

"Nah, it's okay. I was just going to run through some passes to work out some tension. Nothing quite so serious as what you guys were doing. It looked like you were actually trying to kill each other."

Glenn looked surprised, and that confused Karsh. "Really, Sir Karsh? But we were both in perfect control the entire time. It was quite safe."

"Ah. Right." Karsh was impressed in spite of himself.

Dario was not so impressed. "You should be more careful. If you're going to practice, don't use live weaponry."

"But if we don't, we won't know how to handle the weapon correctly in battle, and that would have deadly consequences."

Glenn blinked, obviously surprised with himself. Dario frowned, but conceded that Glenn had a point. Karsh marked up another oddity that Glenn had gained over the span of a night. Before, he would never had responded to his brother in such a way. Something _fundamental _in Glenn seemed to have changed.

Was it because of that boy? Nah. He had just arrived, after all. Surely not long enough to have influenced Glenn to the extent that the boy had changed.

"Do you want to use the court? Serge and I are done sparring, I feel." There was a wry note in his voice that Karsh couldn't entirely place.

"I do. But I don't know about Dario. What brought you out here?"

A sheepish look crossed Dario's face. "I couldn't sleep."

Glenn smiled slightly, and nodded. "Well, the wedding _is _taking place today."

Dario nodded and his features became soft as he thought briefly about Riddle. Glenn hopped the fence and the other young man followed not long after. Karsh had completely forgotten about him.

"Hey, what's your name?"

The young man turned towards Karsh, and told him that his name was Serge.

"Alright. I'll be seeing you two around." Karsh took the more sensible way and entered the practice court through the gate. Dario turned and looked at Glenn.

"Could we...talk for a little?"

Glenn nodded, mildly confused, but followed his brother as they walked away from the field, Karsh, and Serge.

---

Serge sat on the hay in the second level in the barn, thinking. It had certainly been an experience since he had come back to the Other World. He was now in the employ of one of the primary people who had made his life difficult before, he had discovered the Glenn remembered what he did, and had found that Glenn's life had been as difficult as his before the two had met again. It's difficult when there is no-one to share your experiences. He was going to attend the wedding of the man who nearly killed him, and that man wouldn't believe him if Serge told him that it was he, Riddle, and another that had brought back his memories and retrieved him from Serge's home world to this one.

Right. No-one would believe a story like _that_.

Serge ran a hand through his hair, picking out all the stray strands of straw from his hair. He swung down from the loft, startling the stable keeper. Serge apologized and then walked out, memory conjuring images of both times he had been in the stable previously; first as himself, then as Lynx. He shook his head and just barely avoided running into some dragoons who gave him dirty looks and grumbled. Serge apologized, and then walked away, sighing. He turned a corner and saw the finished product of his painstaking gathering of bellflowers.

The whole place was filled with bellflowers, the other decorations simple and unobtrusive, and would highlight the ceremony more than the decorations.

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

Serge sighed and turned around to see one of the few females he didn't like.

Marcy stood a few feet away, hands on her hips, giving him a suspicious look. Serge gave her a small smile and told her that he wasn't entirely used to the layout of the Manor yet, and had gotten lost.

"What d'you mean? Like, who _are_ you?"

Serge wanted to growl in annoyance, but kept his composure. He told her that he was Serge, and that he was a new recruit.

"You don't look like one. I know! You're just here to, like, ruin the wedding, aren't you?"

Serge vehemently denied it, but Marcy obviously didn't believe him. Or chose not to believe him. She giggled maliciously and then lunged in, intent on the attack. Serge dodged and then maneuvered away from the wedding pavilion, drawing her away to a safer place to battle. Serge tried to convince her that he wasn't here to do anything to the wedding, but Marcy merely grinned and asked him, "Then why are you running away?"

Serge wanted to answer, 'Because you're a lunatic and I don't want either of us to get hurt,' but she didn't give him time to answer. He did his best to simply dodge or block, but he was becoming annoyed. He measured how strong she was and then smiled softly to himself. Once he had her in the position he wanted her in, he cast Inferno, leaving her singed and defeated on the ground.

"Owwwwwwww! Meanie!"

Serge sighed and walked over to her, taking out some Ointment. He told her in the voice that made the children of his village obey him to stay still. Against her will, she did, and Serge applied the Ointment, healing the damage he had done. He caught her fist before she could hit him and had her look him in the eyes. He asked her if he really seemed like he would ruin someone's wedding day, and, after holding his eyes for a moment, looked away and sullenly murmured, "No, you don't." Serge gave her a small smile and dropped some Tablets in her lap, then gently suggested that maybe she should get up so that she could make herself presentable for the wedding. She nodded and stood, made an attempt to kick Serge's shins, which he avoided, and then ran off, tossing the tablets into her mouth as she went.

Serge watched her leave and sighed. He had _not_ needed that.

"Well that was impressive. You beat her, and then healed her. You are a unique young man."

Serge turned and saw the General walking up to stand next to him.

"I have been told that you helped collect the flowers that my daughter loves," he said, looking off in the direction of the pavilion. Serge confirmed that statement. There was a long pause, and then the General looked at Serge.

"Karsh reported to me about your and Glenn's duel this morning. He said you are quite the warrior. That must be the case to be able to practice against the Holy Swords." There was a pause as the General looked at Serge's swallow. "May I see your weapon?"

Serge nodded and unhooked the swallow, and handed it to the General. The General took a few steps away and swung the weapons experimentally, then traced its contours with his fingers.

"This is rainbow shell!" The General looked at Serge with renewed respect. "You are quite lucky to have a weapon of this caliber on you." Serge nodded, agreeing that it was rare for anyone to have a spectral weapon, but he had managed to have one forged. The General nodded absently, then handed the swallow back to Serge, who replaced it in its holder.

"May I ask you a personal question?" the General asked, and Serge nodded. "How do you know Glenn?"

Serge smiled faintly and told the General that he and Glenn had fought side-by-side before.

"But how? Glenn, before inheriting the Einlanzers, rarely went anywhere. He was mostly on duty in the Manor. I would remember seeing you. You are a distinctive youth."

Serge hesitated and tried to find a good way that would explain how he and Glenn came to know each other. He shrugged and sighed, and told the General that time was slippery, and that he and Glenn had indeed fought together before, but all that experience was erased from the future of the world, and everything was instead returned to the way it should have been, rather than dealing with a great many crises. The General gave him a strange look, and Serge asked where Lynx was. The General was surprised by the question, and thought. "Lynx? I...don't know. He just disappeared from one day to the next."

And the Dragon Tear?

"Gone as well. Might he have taken it with him?"

Serge shook his head, and told that Lynx was dead and the Dragon Tear had shattered, but all that was gone from the future.

The General was quite puzzled. "You speak of many things that seem more magic than reality."

Serge asked where all the Dragons had gone.

The General frowned. "Disappeared as well. They were there one day and then gone the next. Caused quite an uproar in the communities that worship the Dragons."

Serge smiled faintly. He didn't feel like telling the General that he, Glenn, and Fargo had destroyed them.

"Well...you seem quite sane. I will believe you when you say that you and Glenn have fought together before, but I do not think you can convince me of the other things you speak of. But, come, the wedding will be starting in half an hour, and we need some people present to do crowd control."

Serge nodded, then, belatedly saluted, which made the General chuckle, and gestured for Serge to follow.

Serge fell into step one behind the General, and hoped that he wouldn't have to stay on crowd control for long.

---

Serge leaned against the post closest to the wedding, yet also near the common people who had come to witness the event. Glenn was standing next to him, his eyes gentle, yet sad, as he watched the ceremony take place. Serge contented himself with being near Glenn, and watched the crowd while Glenn watched the wedding. Serge looked at one person twice, and then smiled wryly.

It was Norris. That's right; he was spying here for Porre. Serge wondered what Norris thought of all this. The sudden departure of Lynx, the disinterest in finding the Frozen Flame...it would be quite strange to the very logic-minded man.

Serge continued his sweep of the crowd, and was only brought back to the wedding when there was a cheer. Serge looked over to Glenn who was smiling softly, and Serge asked what happened.

"They're married now." Glenn's smile changed when he realized why Serge would ask such a question. "You weren't even paying attention to the celebration you helped make possible?"

Serge shook his head and mentioned that he saw Norris in the crowd. Glenn sobered slightly, and nodded. "I did too. Hopefully he's still just spying. But we can't be too careful. Will you shadow him? I'll stay near the newlyweds and the General." Serge nodded briefly and slunk away, following the departing Norris. He followed Norris to a secluded part of the grounds, and saw him bring out what Serge could only guess was a communication device. Serge walked up behind him silently and with a deft flick of his wrist sent the device flying, bruised Norris's knuckles, and made the man start. With the tip of his weapon to Norris's throat, he asked what he had been planning to do with that device. It certainly was not of El Nido make.

"I do not believe that is your business," Norris answered stiffly, yet carefully. He had no wish to die.

Serge made a noncommittal noise, and then told Norris not to play stupid. He knew who he was, so there was no use hiding anything.

"Why would you care to learn the name of a lowly servant such as myself?" Norris asked.

Serge gave him a dry look, and told Norris all the details he knew: his name was Norris, he was a commander in the Porre army, and was here as a spy on the tip of a demi-human named Lynx to investigate the Accacia dragoon's interest in an artifact called the Frozen Flame.

Norris stared, and then regained his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Serge lowered his weapon and used it to pull aside the dishwasher clothing to reveal a pistol strapped to Norris's thigh, and then looked at him.

Norris quickly took a step back, and fell into a fighting stance.

Serge sighed and told Norris to return to Porre. Lynx was gone, and the Frozen Flame no longer existed. There was no reason for him to be here.

Norris was obviously trying to hide his alarm, but succeeding only slightly. He stood up straight, and gave a small salute before turning and picking up the device and walking to the Manor. Serge sighed and replaced his swallow in its holster. Hopefully Norris _would_ go back to Porre. Serge did not want to fight him. Serge turned and walked back to the wedding party and met up with Glenn, telling him the brief interaction that he and Norris had. Glenn looked pensive, but the look was ruined as something bounced off his head and landed in Serge's hands. They both looked at the bellflower bouquet for a moment before they heard the laugh and realized what Serge was holding. Serge had to fight back a blush and handed it to the closest woman who seemed to want it. He sighed when the lady went off, going to show the lovely thing to her friends, and the little incident was soon mostly forgotten as the wedding party expanded to the larger part of the Manor. There were hundreds of people wishing the two newlyweds luck, and Glenn and Serge had little to do aside from make the occasional sweep of the area with their eyes. If there was anyone who had planned on causing trouble, the food and the alcohol probably convinced them to do otherwise. Riddle eventually found the two men and smiled at them.

"My flowers landed on both of you, correct?"

Serge nodded slightly.

"Do you think that means that you both will get married next?"

Serge and Glenn were both taken aback. Serge told Riddle that he had no intention of getting married any time soon, so the woman he gave the flowers too probably will do so before him.

"Really? That's a pity. I get the feeling that you'd make your spouse very happy. And what about you, Sir Glenn?"

Glenn shook his head. "I don't want to get married. I don't want to leave someone behind if I fall in the line of duty."

Riddle looked a little sad, but nodded. "It's good that your practical, but I hope you find happiness."

Dario walked up behind his bride and greeted the two young men. "It doesn't seem like you two are enjoying yourselves. You should relax."

Glenn gave his brother a tight smile. "All the other dragoons are busy relaxing. At least two people should keep watch in case anything happens."

"So serious! But you should let go. If anything happens, I'm sure the more belligerent drunks will take care of things," Dario said with a grin.

Riddle squawked a "Dario!" before allowing herself to be led away.

Glenn and Serge looked at each other, and Glenn sighed.

"Perhaps I do need to relax. I've been doing so much lately..."

Serge told Glenn that he'd keep a lookout for both anything that could happen and for Glenn.

Glenn's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Serge told him that he would drag him to his bed if he got too drunk to walk on his own.

Glenn looked highly indignant. "For your information, I hate alcohol, so there's no risk of _that _happening."

Serge gave Glenn a wry smile. He had been kidding, but Glenn took everything so seriously.

He grabbed Glenn's hand and dragged him towards the party proper. Glenn had said he would try to relax. Serge would see to it.


	5. Fossil Valley

Serge sighed and sat down on his bed, amused to see that he had inadvertently chosen the one next to Glenn, on which Glenn was sleeping quite heavily. It seemed like Glenn couldn't hold his drink all that well, but Serge wasn't about to make fun of him; the one time _he_ had drank it had ended up badly, and anyway, Glenn had been goaded by quite a few of his comrades, and his brother threw in a challenge for good measure. Glenn could hardly back out, so he had stepped up to it, and ended up worse for wear. Serge sighed, took off his boots, and thought; he ought to find a shower somewhere, as he was starting to smell after all the traveling. Sure, not many noticed, but he did. He peeled his skin-tight shirt off and shivered briefly--it was cold underground--then secured everything under his bunk and laid down. He stared up at the ceiling for a while, then sighed and pulled the covers over him, closing his eyes. He had been near Glenn for more than a week now. He wasn't certain if the other man felt anything for him, but Serge found that he didn't mind; he wasn't going to do anything to change the state of affairs. He was content. The next day would be used for everyone with hangovers to recover, thus including Glenn, and they would probably go back to the Valley the next day to continue investigating the strange monster phenomena, which meant Serge would be alone with Glenn and left him with plenty of time to gauge the young man. Serge smiled slightly, turned over onto his side, and slowly fell asleep.

---

Serge knew he shouldn't feel quite so amused to find Glenn nearly incapacitated, but it did make the young dragoon stay still and rest. It was probably a combination of fatigue and the alcohol that made Glenn unable to do much except breathe and eat, and Serge didn't mind being silent company. Glenn was roused to consciousness sometime around mid-afternoon, but Serge kept him from doing much of anything, and Glenn was, for once, too lazy to protest.

"Remind me to never do anything like that ever again," Glenn grumbled to a sympathetic Serge.

Serge was content to take the day easy as well; he had a feeling that they'd have more than enough to do soon. He sharpened his swallow, checked his stock of elements, went over his armor and other accessories and set aside a few that he was going to give Glenn. He probably didn't have the Yellow Plate anymore; then again, its presence would have been even more difficult to explain. Serge's mouth twisted into a wry smile when he pondered the possible conversation that would ensue. It had been difficult enough to explain his possessions to his mother, but that was only because he was able to evade most of the questions, and once his mother had seen that Serge would not answer, she had given up. After he was pretty sure that they wouldn't do too badly, for Glenn had elements of his own, Serge wondered if Norris was still around. He stood, slipping his swallow onto its holder on his back. Even though he wasn't wearing any armor, he felt that he would be fine; it would make less noise. Serge meandered over to the kitchen and a small smile flitted across his face as he saw Norris hard at work; it appeared that he was being driven harder than any drill sergeant had. It was comforting, in a way, to see that he was too busy to do anything.

Serge turned away from the kitchen, and walked to find a shower somewhere; he'd use one outside if necessary. The well should give him water enough to at least rinse the dust, grime, and sweat off him. Serge, after turning up nothing that was not being used, decided that outside would work just fine for him. He found a bucket and trecked outside, walking over to the well. He passed a few dazed-looking guards and smiled faintly. Now would be a perfect time for an attack, but he doubted that would happen. The ocean currents would keep any Porre fleet from them for at least another month. Serge tied a rope to the bucket and tossed it down the well. He felt it grow heavy with water and started heaving it up. After a few minutes' toil, he managed to pull it up and over the edge, leaving him with a decent amount of water, barring what he had spilled on the transit. He took the bucket and found a spot behind some brush and stripped down to his underwear. He dumped the water over him, using a cloth he had tucked into a pocket to scrub his skin. Thankfully, he was spared inquiry and was able to slip his clothes back on without anyone noticing him. He ran a hand through damp hair and picked up the bucket, walking out from where he had washed himself. He wrung out the cloth as he walked, awkwardly balancing his swallow and the bucket. He returned both bucket and cloth to where he had found them, then walked back to where he had left Glenn. He peeked in and found Glenn sitting up on the bed, running his fingers along the Holy Swords. Serge walked in, making Glenn look up blearily.

"Serge," he said, his voice amused.

Serge nodded and sat down on the bed beside Glenn's, and sighed.

Glenn looked at him and frowned. "You're wet. Is it raining?"

Serge shook his head and explained that he had merely taken a shower. Glenn looked thoughtful.

"I ought to do so as well. Even though we'll just be traveling again tomorrow." There was a slight hint of sullen annoyance over that, but it quickly faded. Serge asked if Glenn was feeling better.

Glenn nodded, then winced. "More or less. Enough to be certain that, come tomorrow, I'll be completely lucid."

Serge smiled.

"What time is it?"

Serge told him that it was two hours from dusk, and Glenn stared.

"I've been out that long?"

Serge shrugged. Glenn had drunk too much, and had been exhausted from all that he had been doing. He had woken up two hours after noon, and had been lucid enough only to eat and breathe. A wry smile twisted Serge's features. He told Glenn that Glenn had said that every movement made him dizzy and that even when someone spoke in a whisper Glenn could feel it through his entire body.

Glenn flushed slightly, frowned, and murmured, "Never again."

Serge nodded and sighed, rolling his shoulders back in an effort to loosen them as a slightly embarrassed silence fell between them.

"I didn't do anything stupid...right?" Glenn asked eventually, obviously pained to have to ask such a question.

Serge shook his head. No, Glenn hadn't done anything dumb. He was calm even when horribly drunk. Serge had been able to tell from the slight hesitance and slur in Glenn's speech and the glassy look in his eyes, though no-one else could have picked up on it.

Glenn visibly relaxed. "Well...most of today is gone. Though I could always get something done."

Serge shook his head and told him to stay put. They would head off tomorrow and things would be busy from then on.

Glenn nodded slightly and put the holy swords down and slid them under his bed. It was an unnecessary precaution, but one could never be too careful.

"Have you checked your weapons, elements, and item supply?" Glenn asked.

Serge nodded, then handed the yellow plate to Glenn.

"How did...? Nevremind." Glenn smiled at the armor and placed it with his other pieces. Serge sat down next to Glenn and briefed him on all the elements he carried, as well as the items. Glenn nodded as he set out his own. After a brief discussion, they decided that they would stop by Termina first to get some water and fire elements as well as consumables before heading to the Valley. They would start first thing in the morning. Serge rose and after left the room, promising to bring back food, and left no time for Glenn to say he would go as well. Glenn just sunk back down on the bed and sighed. Tomorrow would come soon enough. Before, he hadn't been looking forward to returning to active duty there, yet now he found himself wanting it to come. That puzzled Glenn, but he pushed those thoughts aside when Serge came in, carrying the food.

---

Glenn and Serge exited the elements shop and sat down on the stairs leading up to general Viper's statue. They distributed the elements and consumables between themselves, bantering lightly back and forth. They had only been working and traveling with each other for a little less than a fortnight, but it felt much longer, probably because of all the time they had spent together in the erased time-line. Once they had checked their supply, they stood with a small cracking of joints, walked down the stairs, and nearly ran into some people entering the city. They looked tired and ragged, and Glenn immediately stopped his descent.

"Ma'am, is something wrong?" he asked the closest adult woman.

She turned and looked at him, a weary smile on her face. "The monsters from the valley have moved out of it, and are beginning to get to the smaller villages," she murmured.

Glenn bolted, and Serge sighed. He told the woman that he and Glenn had been sent to look into, and hopefully fix, that problem. The lady looked relieved and thanked Serge profusely. Serge waved it off and then jogged to catch up to Glenn.

He called out to Glenn to slow down, saying that tiring himself out before they got there would only make him less able to fight the monsters and help people.

That made Glenn slow to a jog, then a walk, allowing Serge to catch up. When Serge got a look at his face, it was twisted with sorrow, regret, and determination. "I should have been able to fix it before it got this out of hand. I'm a better dragoon than that."

Serge put a hand on Glenn's shoulder and told him that even though he hadn't been able to solve it before, he now had another person working with him. That means another way of looking at things, which only increased the chance of them curing the problem.

Glenn nodded and took a deep breath. Serge watched as he slowly got himself under control, and was amused and amazed by the self-control that Glenn was able to impose upon himself.

"Let's go," Glenn said in a quiet, commanding voice that made Serge inexplicably shiver. He fell into step beside Glenn, and they began a brisk walk towards the Valley.

---

Serge and Glenn leaned against the wall of a small alcove, waiting out the worst of the afternoon's heat. The Valley's bare rock radiated back all the heat, creating strange shimmers in the air, and sapping the energy of anyone who would walk through. Neither man wanted to be attacked in the heat that left their clothes sticking uncomfortably to their bodies. Glenn sighed and Serge sympathized. They had been in the Valley for a little over a week now, and the only progress they had made was to thin out the number of monsters. But everywhere they looked, there was always more--it was exhausting, thankless, and seemingly pointless work.

"Why aren't we getting anywhere? It seems like all our efforts are for...nothing. There _has_ to be something. There has to be a pattern that I'm missing," Glenn murmured, obviously annoyed, as he wiped sweat from his face. Serge shrugged and rolled his shoulder, trying to loosen the tension that had been building over the week. He hadn't ever fought this long without reprieve anywhere, and most certainly not with this kind of weather.

They sat in thoughtful silence for a while, each trying to find some connecting feature to all the attacks.

Serge murmured that they _had_ been finding more monsters in some areas than others. Perhaps there were nests somewhere in those places?

"Possibly," Glenn murmured, a small frown on his face. "That makes sense. Where do we find them the most?"

Serge thought and then listed off places; near the deepest part of the valley, close to the small waterhole, and in the southeast corner, close to the entrance from down Arni's way. That spot was the one that worried Serge the most, since it was closest to harassing the people he cared for. Glenn nodded and wiped some dirt off one of his swords. "We'll check there first, then."

---

Glenn and Serge walked softly along, staying close the walls, and far from dangerous edges. They reached the end of the Valley and looked around, hands on their weapons. Silence greeted them, and they proceeded over to the edge of the cliff.

A ways down they could see movement, and the flashes of light catching inhuman eyes.

"There are a lot down there," Glenn said, hands tightening on the hilts of his swords, anger a soft undercurrent to his words. Serge nodded and looked down the slope, judging which path down would be best. He finally decided on one that had some ledges to stop on, and a few easily defendable positions. He pointed it out to Glenn and Glenn looked it over critically.

"It'll do," he said, his words clipped as he looked down and tried to judge just how much trouble was waiting for them.

Serge, rather than giving himself time to think, started down the slope, and Glenn followed shortly after.

---

The two young men stood back-to-back, dripping sweat, facing the prospect of yet more monsters. Their weapons were slick with blood, and were starting to slip even in their gloved hands. Their elements were running low, and their energy was waning. Serge was looking around for anywhere they could possibly use as cover. He felt Glenn tense at his back, and his hands tightened involuntarily on his swallow. He could feel the pressure of the monsters' presence building. Just as he was certain that they would be attacked, the monsters withdrew, confusing them. They remained alert for fifteen minutes after the withdrawal, then slowly relaxed enough to slip out of fighting stances.

"What was that about?" Glenn mused aloud. Serge took out a cloth from his pocket and began to wipe his swallow's blades clean. Glenn flicked the Holy Swords dry of monster fluids, then sheathed them both in one fluid motion. Serge smiled faintly and settled his swallow into its holster.

Glenn frowned slightly and turned slowly, trying to figure out where the monsters had gone. "Why would they suddenly depart like that?" Glenn murmured, and Serge sat down on a nearby rock, wincing as sharp edges cut into tired muscles. He offered that perhaps they had gotten tired of dying and so decided that they weren't worth the effort to kill?

"Perhaps," Glenn said, and stretched aching muscles. "But they probably would have stopped long ago if they had decided we weren't worth the effort. Those monsters were more aggressive than any I remember coming across."

Serge nodded tiredly, and swept his gaze across the valley. His eyes caught on an alcove, and his body reminded him just how tired he was. He told Glenn that they should probably rest for a while, to recover. Glenn turned, looked Serge over, and nodded. "It'll be good to get some rest," he said and walked over to Serge, and offered him a hand, which Serge gladly took. They meandered over to the small protection offered by an overhanging ledge, and Serge collapsed against the wall as soon as he made sure he wouldn't land on anything uncomfortable. He never remembered falling asleep.

---

Glenn leaned on the wall next to Serge, and sighed. He looked down at the unconscious Serge, and was surprised when he felt a tired smile pull at his mouth. They had been active from just after dawn until it was too dark to see for days on end; Glenn might be used to it by now, but Serge didn't have that stamina. Glenn settled back and thought--Serge was right in that there were certain parts of the valley more populated by monsters than others. But what did that mean? Monsters didn't usually congregate in only parts of places. Glenn stepped out from beneath the overhang and walked over to the nearest monster. It wasn't...normal. Not for the Valley. As he looked over the markings and body type, he came to a startling conclusion. The thing before him was a combination of a Cat Burglar from Mount Pyre, a Shadow from the Valley, and a Beeba from the Hydra Marshes. It was a mangled, tortured thing. There was no way that it could have possibly come about in nature. This was the work of human or demi-human hands. Glenn thought that it was more likely that humans were doing it; demi-humans were too in tune with nature to pervert it in this way. Glenn frowned and tensed.

He had heard something.

He turned and looked over at Serge. The young man was still, obviously deep asleep. Glenn moved slowly and carefully, making his way towards where Serge was; it was the only shelter nearby if something happened. He had just managed to make his way beneath the overhang when he heard voices. He strained to listen, but could only tell that there were people, and that they were speaking. He strained to hear, closing his eyes so he could focus entirely on his hearing.

The words never became distinct, but he could tell that they were speaking with an El Nido accent, so he relaxed slightly. Being a Dragoon would help; the people recognized that the dragoon's presence kept everything together, and if they saw him trying to figure this out, it would give them even more confidence, since they would see that the threat was being taken seriously. Glenn allowed himself to relax marginally and leaned against the rock wall, taking deep breaths to steady and center himself. He would wake Serge soon; they couldn't afford to stay here for long. They had to find better shelter, and discuss what they thought about the situation with the monsters.

Glenn waited until he felt the adrenaline from the battle and hearing the people fade, then shook Serge slightly until Serge awoke.

"Come. We can't stay here."

Serge blinked a few times before he managed to wake up enough to process what Glenn had said. Serge nodded and stood slowly. He asked Glenn how long he had been asleep, and was relieved when Glenn told him that it hadn't been that long.

"We might have to walk a ways. There doesn't seem to be any good shelter near here," Glenn said as he walked out of the overhang, Serge a step behind. Serge nodded and turned in a half-circle, trying to determine which way might be best to go. He thought, then turned back to Glenn. He told the dragoon that it would probably be best to go in the opposite direction of where they'd been running into more monsters.

Glenn nodded. "We should get started now. We don't know if we'll run into any more of them, and I haven't seen any sheltered places since we came down here."

Serge nodded, agreeing. Though how Glenn had had time to look around at their surroundings when they were fighting for their lives was beyond Serge. Glenn really _was_ an exceptional warrior.

Serge fell into step next to Glenn, his swallow still in his hand, his senses painfully alert. Glenn's hand on his shoulder surprised Serge slightly, and when he saw the small, encouraging smile grace Glenn's lips, he felt a little less tired. Glenn believed in him. He wouldn't let Glenn down.

They stuck as close to the walls of the cavern as possible; it would at least prevent an attack from behind. Serge's grip on his swallow was perhaps a little tighter than was good for the weapon or his hand as they walked, but he believed that it was better to err on the side of caution. Serge wasn't certain how long they walked, but all the time the shadows grew longer and night began to fall upon them. Just when Serge was beginning to give up hope of shelter, he spotted a place that would at least protect them, though it wouldn't be all that comfortable. He pointed it out to Glenn, who examined it from afar before nodding.

"We ought to be careful, though. If it's safe for us, it may be safe for the monsters." He murmured softly. Serge nodded and fell into step beside Glenn, weapon ready. They stepped cautiously, and when they finally got to the small cave, they both relaxed.

Safe at last.

They set up a small camp, primarily made of blankets and a small fire. They couldn't afford a large fire, for it would attract unwanted attention. They each settled against a wall and cooked a meager meal, sharing it between the two of them.

Serge wondered aloud if they were any closer to discovering the problem than the day before.

Glenn nodded slightly. "I think so. While you slept for a few minutes, I examined one of the corpses. It wasn't...natural."

Serge voiced that they had already decided this.

Glenn smiled tiredly. "More so than we thought, though. Something or someone _must_ have created them. It was...perverted...grossly misshapen. That's one step closer to understanding. The reason why they're so much harder to defeat, why they seem to be somewhat more intelligent--it's because they were _made_ by something other than nature. The questions we're facing now is _why_ they were created, and _who_ is creating them."

Serge nodded, thoughtful. Who indeed? Was there anyone in El Nido who had a grudge against the people here?

Glenn frowned and crossed his arms across his chest. "I don't think so. The demi-humans may not like the humans, but they would never do something like this. They're tied too closely to nature. The Dragon Gods are gone, as is FATE. The dwarves would not do this, nor the faries."

Serge thought as Glenn was pondering aloud, and his eyes widened as he came to a conclusion.

Maybe it was Porre?

"Porre? Here? Already That is a disturbing prospect..." Glenn murmured, his frown deepening. "Now, more than ever we have to solve this."

Serge asked if they should call for backup, but Glenn shook his head.

"They wouldn't be able to get here in time, and those doing this might bolt if there are too many people, but leave however they're making these monsters intact for later use."

Serge slowly nodded. Yes. It would be good to take out everything. He was a little nervous about it just being him and Glenn, but figured that they had survived this long; if they were careful, they should be able to survive Porre soldiers as well. Serge told Glenn that he would take first watch, since he had a brief rest earlier in the day. Glenn nodded, a small smile of gratitude brushing his lips before he made himself as comfortable as possible against the cave wall. Glenn was asleep within seconds.

---

Serge sighed softly and looked out into the darkness, the fire offering meager warmth.

Porre, huh? He was surprised that they would do something like this, but if they built robots to achieve their ends, he could imagine that they would try to do something with nature after a while. Mastery over technology and machinery might give them a somewhat skewed outlook, allowing them to believe that they could control anything.

Serge set his swallow across his lap and took off his gloves, rubbing his tired hands. He was beginning to get blisters across his palm, even through the heavy cloth. He rifled through his bag, and took out a cloth, a small dagger, and some ointment. He shifted his swallow until one of the blades laid across his lap, and began to work at cleaning all the monster goo off of it. As he did, he thought.

Porre would need a place to work on "building" the monsters. Which means they had a base somewhere in the Valley. He finished removing all of the grime, and then began to run the dagger across the edge of his swallow, dulling the dagger but sharpening his more used weapon. Where would they put the base, though? It would have to be somewhere out of the way, so that the passer-by wouldn't stumble upon it. It also needed to be defendable. There were lots of places like that in the Valley, though, which meant that the base could be nearly anywhere.

Serge frowned and rubbed ointment into the place where blade joined handle, keeping the binding limber so it wouldn't stiffen and break. He continued down the rest of the handle, concentrating on making sure it was spread evenly. The Valley wasn't awfully large, though. It would be difficult, but not impossible, to find the base. They also needed somewhere to store the mon...sters...

Could it really be that easy?

Serge reached the other end of his weapon and slid the blade carefully onto his lap. He took the cloth and began wiping down that end. Could there be more than one entrance to the base? Yes, that would make sense. If one entrance/exit was discovered, they could seal it off and still be able to function. If that was the case, then those entrance/exit points could feasibly be where they let the monsters free. If those were the place that they let the monsters free from, then wouldn't there be a higher concentration in those areas?

Serge put down the cloth and picked up the dagger, running it briskly across the blade. That was it Where there were the most monsters was close to an entrance to the Porre base. It was a good defensive strategy. The monsters would keep inquisitive minds away, yet be in an easily controllable position. He would have to tell Glenn this. It would make their lives so much easier, to finally have a goal, rather than just wandering in confusion, trying to unravel the mystery of the monsters. The next step would be figuring out how to get in the base without being killed. That might be a little difficult.

Serge sheathed the dagger and put all three items, dagger, cloth, and ointment, back into his bag, feeling accomplished. He balanced the swallow across his lap and looked out into the darkness. Now, to figure out any kind of strategy to get into the base, defeat the Porres, and shut down their operation, all without dying in the attempt.

Damn.

--

The next morning, Serge told Glenn about his revelation, and Glenn was pleased; he had come to nearly the same decision, too. The problem really was how to get into the Porre base. They needed information on the set-up of the place, how many soldiers were there, among a myriad of other necessary bits of knowledge.

"But how do we accomplish that?" Glenn mused, slightly worried.

Serge shrugged, and said that perhaps if they manage to ambush some Porre soldiers coming out of one of the entrance/exits they could get some information from them.

"But how many come out? We havenσt seen any."

We haven't looked all that hard, Serge pointed out.

Glenn nodded, slightly chagrined. "We'll have to find a good place to hide, though. There aren't many places like that near where we saw the most monsters. Not in this part of the Valley. Perhaps if we explore the other concentrated areas? I believe I remember one being in a more rocky part."

Serge nodded. Let's get going, then, he said and stretched, hooking his swallow into its holster.

Glenn stood a little more slowly, and sighed as he finally made it entirely upright. Serge was intrigued and asked Glenn if the Holy Swords were heavy. Glenn's smile was tired as he regarded his weapons.

"They're not featherweight," he said with a slight sigh in his voice.

Serge smiled faintly, but was bad at concealing his curiosity. Can I hold one? He asked.

Glenn shrugged, giving him a small smile. "If you let me hold your swallow."

Serge rested a hand on the dull part of his blade and hesitated. They could be attacked at any time and he knew how to handle a sword as much as Glenn knew how to wield a swallow; that is to say, not at all.

But he trusted Glenn.

Serge unhooked the swallow from its holster and held it out to Glenn. Glenn took the weapon carefully, then unsheathed one of the Holy Swords and handed it to Serge. Both were relatively surprised at the weight of each other's weapon.

"I thought that the balance would be more evenly distributed," Glenn murmured as he tried to find the balancing point for the swallow.

Serge shrugged and hefted the Holy Sword. He said that he could never imagine just one blade. What would he do with his other hand?

Glenn smiled. "That's why I had a shield before I had both Swords."

Serge handed the sword back to Glenn and received his swallow back in return. Serge was startled by how relieved he felt to have his own weapon back. He voiced this and Glenn chuckled slightly.

"Your weapon becomes a part of you. I'm not really surprised." Glenn sheathed the sword as he spoke. "I felt the same way, actually, which is strange since I haven't had these swords for that long."

Serge shrugged, then turned to look up at the steep cliff they were facing. He said that they ought to start now, if they wanted to make it up to the main path before noon.

Glenn looked up and sighed. "This will be interesting."

---

Serge looked up at the brilliantly blue sky, panting, sweat-drenched. He had aches in places he didn't know could ache, and he had a feeling that Glenn wasn't faring much better. He murmured sullenly that he never wanted to do anything like that ever again. Glenn voiced a weak chuckle, and agreed.

"We're at the main path, though," Glenn said, his voice betraying his exhaustion.

Serge pushed himself upright, and then staggered to his feet with the help of his swallow. He turned and extended a hand to Glenn. After a moment's pause, Glenn took the offered help and struggled to stand. Once vertical, he murmured a "Thank you," then looked in the direction they were to head.

Serge looked as well and couldn't stop himself from grumbling about how they never seemed to get any rest.

Glenn gave Serge a small smile. "No-one ever said this would be easy."

Serge sighed dramatically, and Glenn chuckled. "Come on. The sooner we discover these guys and shut down their operation, the sooner we can get some rest."

That was all the motivation Serge needed to get himself going. He started off in the direction that they had agreed on, Glenn following him, a small, amused smile on his face.


	6. Captured

Author: Chrono Cross and associated stuff does not belong to me. If it did, the main pairing in the game would be -very- different. Other than that, I hope you enjoy reading.

Serge grumbled as he tried to undo the ropes binding his hands together. How had he allowed himself to be convinced by Glenn that this was a good idea? He finally found the knot with his fingers, and began to pick at it. He was currently sitting in a holding cell in the Porre base, tired, bruised, with a sprained ankle and an awful headache.

The plan had seemed simple, really. Get caught by the Porres, be taken into base for questioning, find a way out. Instead, they had ended up split apart, weaponless, and probably to be used as feed or practice for the incubating monsters Serge had seen along the way. He shuddered when he remembered walking past all those fledgling creatures, half formed, deformed, terrifying...

The Porre dialect was difficult for him to understand, but when he managed to, he got the feeling that most of the soldiers wanted out of this situation. Being unable to speak to his guards or their visitors made it difficult for him to talk his way out of the cell, as he was certain Glenn could. So he sat, and listened, and slowly unwound the knot binding his hands together. He would have to be careful when he undid his feet, though; too much noise would bring attention to him. He worked slowly and carefully, stopping whenever the conversation outside his cell stopped. He had nearly managed to free his wrists from their bindings when he heard the lock to his cell open, and he froze, stilling his hands and keeping them directly behind his back. A colonel entered the cell, giving Serge a long, considering look.

"You are a good warrior," he said. It was a statement of fact, not a question. "You have been fighting our monsters for a while now, and winning."

Serge merely looked at him.

"We have been trying to make monsters that can defeat you, but each time you win. How, though?" the colonel asked as he walked towards Serge. "You do not appear particularly strong, intelligent, or fast. Perhaps it is because of your partnership with the dragoon?" The colonel squatted in front of the captive Serge, looking into Serge's deep blue eyes. "Yes, I think that is it. Well, soldier, you will be glad to know that I am allowing you to rejoin your comrade. However," a smug note wormed its way into the colonel's voice, "you must find him. This will test both of your strengths separately. If you manage to rejoin each other...well, we have something special ready for the both of you." The colonel stood, and dragged Serge onto his feet via Serge's shirt. He walked behind Serge and pushed him out of the cell into the hallway. Serge managed to save his dignity and stumbled only slightly before regaining his balance. He was surrounded by Porre Privates and then lead through the twisting underground compound. Serge lost track of all the turns they took, before he found himself standing before a door. He felt the bonds on his hands and the shackles on his feet fall away, and was given back his pack, elements, and weapon. Before he could do anything, though, he was pushed through the door, it closing with a final click behind him. His lip curled slightly, then he turned to face forward. He was surrounded on all sides by dirt, stone, and steel; there was only one way to proceed. He readied himself, equipping his elements, replacing his armor, and switching his grip on his swallow for more comfort.

Right.

Serge started down the path open to him, a feeling of dread and a desperate need to find Glenn in his heart.

---

Glenn stood still in an intersection deep within the base. He ducked behind a corner as a group of Porre soldiers walked by and sighed silently.

He hadn't _meant_ for them to get separated. Now he had to find Serge and _fast_. If he didn't...well, Glenn didn't feel like considering that particular option. As he had traveled through the base he had a gotten a feel for the situation; the Porres had been watching them the entire time, which was frustrating--Glenn did not like feeling as if he were a lab experiment. He nervously fiddled with the hilt of one of his swords and closed his eyes. He would never find Serge if he were distracted and unsettled. He took a deep, silent breath and counted slowly to 10, calming himself and settling his nerves. He opened his eyes again and slid around the corner after listening intently; he would find Serge.

---

The stones were cold against his hands, the frigid feeling seeping through his gloves. He was bleeding slightly from various cuts across his body and his breathing was harsh. He knew he wasn't going in circles; he didn't see any dried blood. This wasn't a maze, it was simply one long, twisting corridor with secret passages leading in and out. The passages were only opening from the inside, though. Every time Serge defeated a monster and tried to open the place where it came out, nothing gave under his fingers or elements. He was staggering with weariness, and had a bad feeling that if anything large was thrown at him he would be defeated. He leaned against a wall and sighed heavily. He needed to use a Healing element soon; he didn't know how long he'd last otherwise, and he was out of consumables.

Damnit, when he saw Glenn next he was going to give him his opinion, quite eloquently, about what he thought of Glenn's idea.

Serge slid down to the ground, crouching, trying to figure out any possible course of action besides move forwards. The way back had been closed off each time he defeated a monster, so there was no retreating. He _had_ to be able to do something. Serge winced as he pushed himself up and off the wall, staggering a moment to get his balance. He turned to face the way "out" and began to trudge along, his swallow lose in his tired hands. He walked, the stones blurring into a solid mass of gray that seemed to go on forever, as if he was making no progress at all.

Movement on the right

Serge turned sluggishly, but managed to avoid the blast of rocks that would have flung him into the opposite wall with bruising force.

"Serge!"

Serge stared dumbly through the settling dust at the dragoon standing in the newly-created hole in the wall.

"Hurry!"

Serge forced himself into movement and stumbled against Glenn, who caught him. Glenn dragged him out of the tunnel and into an adjacent room. He settled Serge on a bench built into the wall and examined him briefly. Serge allowed Glenn to apply Ointments and Antidotes without complaint, but the Brace he put on his left ankle did hurt a little. Glenn was murmuring his apologies over and over as he cared for Serge, and a small tired smile flitted across Serge's face. Once all his injuries were cared for, Glenn helped Serge stand.

"Come on. We have to get out of here."

Serge nodded slightly and allowed himself to be led by Glenn, his grip on the swallow a little more firm than it had been. He would still need time to rest, but that would come later. Right now they had to worry about getting out of here.

Oh, and also shutting this operation down. If he accomplished anything, it would be to put this place out of commission.

Serge asked Glenn if he had found out anything about how the monsters were made. He had seen them in what appeared to be tubes.

Glenn nodded slightly. "It seems as if they're...growing...them, for lack of a better word. It's very disturbing." Glenn's eyes became hard. "We must stop this. The people of El Nido are counting on us." A small, chagrined smile briefly flitted across his face. "I'm going to need your help for this, though. Do you think you can help me? I'll understand if you say no."

Serge shook his head slowly. No, he'd help out, as long as he could express his displeasure over the plan later.

Glenn nodded solemnly, and continued walking purposefully down the hallway. As they proceeded, Serge gradually got his feet back under him again, the Nostrums he had consumed and the various other healing balms applied working on his tired body. When he could finally stand alone without needed support from Glenn, he disentangled himself from Glenn's hold and suppressed a shiver, suddenly feeling cold without Glenn's warm strength holding him steady. Glenn's eyes were still concerned, but he wasn't going to say anything; if Serge felt he could manage on his own, then Glenn would do nothing to stop him.

The pair ducked into an alcove, avoiding a group of alert, actively searching guards.

Serge asked quietly if Glenn could remember where he saw the monsters, and Glenn nodded the affirmative. Glenn ducked out and Serge followed once the Privates were out of range. They dodged a few more patrols, and checked every door they came across. Most were dead-ends, leading to nothing other than barracks, bathrooms, or mess halls.

It was only when Serge fell through an apparently solid wall that they finally found what they were looking for.

Serge sprawled ungracefully on the floor, cushioning his head on his arms out of warrior-survival instinct. He could feel Glenn's surprise and looked up. He stared dumbly for a moment before a feeling of revulsion so strong it was nearly unbearable swamped him. He pushed himself up and stood next to Glenn.

Before them was tube on tube of developing monsters, some barely discernible, others nearly full-fledged. The sheer perversion before them made Glenn's hands tighten painfully around the hilts of his swords.

"We're going to destroy this. Now."

Serge nodded and switched his swallow into a more comfortable grip. Serge focused his attacks primarily upon all the electronics that he saw, while Glenn waited for the inevitable wave of Porre soldiers after hearing all the ruckus that Serge was happily causing. One by one Serge saw the light in the tubes fade and watched as the forms contained sunk to the bottom, vital stats fading to nothing. Serge heard when the soldiers came in, but didn't really care. He was too busy destroying the seeds of the things which had caused him immediate physical pain; once he was done with the monsters, he had a few things he wanted to say to that one Colonel. He turned away from his mission just in time to deflect a bullet that had been coming his way. He had managed to destroy all of the consoles, so he was more than ready to take on any soldiers. Although his body was exhausted, the adrenaline offered by the battle against those who had more or less tortured him was enough to keep him on his feet. He felt the displacement of air signifying the use of a green element and smiled slightly. Most of the Porre soldiers were yellow innates, like Norris, so Glenn would have little trouble dealing with them elementally; it was Serge who would have to be a little careful. Serge ended up back-to-back with Glenn, and the Porres learned very quickly that they were outclassed physically and magically. Glenn and Serge worked in perfect tandem; they backed each other up, supported each other with healing and attack elements, and never allowed their enemies to gain positional upper-hands. The two young men were conserving their heavy-hitting elements, though. They didn't know how deep they were underground and how much damage to the surrounding area the more powerful elements could cause. They had never battled in such tight quarters before, so they stuck to the small elements and purely physical attacks. Even though that was the case, the group of privates they had taken on were down in a heartbeat. The two stood, panting, for only a moment before moving on. There was a possibility that there were other monster plants like the one they had just destroyed, not to mention possible monster corrals.

They bolted down the twisting hallways, not bothering to mask their presence anymore, taking down any hostile soldiers they happened to cross paths with. Any doors they came across were kicked down, their contents bared immediately. Most, again, were closets and empty rooms meant to fool, but they did find two that contained monster-making machines. Those were dealt with in short order before any more soldiers could capture them in the small space.

Serge's body was starting to give out on him, but he pressed on; he wanted to find that Colonel and make him suffer as he had suffered. Serge and Glenn ran through another door and were startled into stopping.

They were outside. How was that possible?

No, not entirely outside, Serge thought to himself. He looked up and saw steep walls on every side of them, and the sky seemed very far away. Serge commented that this area could quite possibly be fooling them; it might be made to seem like outside when it was really still underground.

Glenn nodded, understanding, but nervous.

"I feel something's wrong, and it's not just the environment..."

Serge nodded slightly, then jumped as one entire wall of the apparent sinkhole opened up to reveal a particularly nasty-looking, very large monster. It had the wings of a Lava Boy from Mt. Pyre, the muscular build of a Cat Burglar from Mt. Pyre, and managed to carry the armored shell of the Rock Beetle from Earth Dragon Isle. There were touches of a dozen other creatures in it, too, but were not clear enough for Serge to name distinctly. He saw Glenn stiffen in revulsion, his hands tightening on the hilts of his swords.

"Why would anyone _do_ such a thing as this?" Glenn growled, his ice-blue eyes snapping in anger.

"Why would anyone, indeed?"

Serge had to heavily reign in the impulse to ignore the created monster and go for the natural one, but his desire to see the Colonel in pieces at his feet was balanced by the knowledge that leaving Glenn would leave him vulnerable to the enormous creature they were facing. Still, he was torn and the Colonel could see it.

"It seems you have indeed met up with your companion, no matter the way in such a way as it was accomplished." The smirk in the colonel's voice made Serge twitch, and Serge liked to think he was fairly level-headed.

"Are you the one who has done this?" Glenn asked, anger laced in his voice.

"Partly. I never actually touched any of the genetic makeup that put this thing together; all I did was supply funds and...test subjects."

"You've been gathering monsters?"

"And humans, too. After all, we do need to see how strong these are. Your dragoons have been of great help."

Glenn glared at the man, and if looks could kill the Colonel would be dead three times over.

"Now, now. Do not behave like a child. If you think I am so in the wrong for wanting my country to be strong, try to strike me down. It'll be fun to watch."

Glenn looked at the monster, then at Serge.

"Physical first. Then we test the elements. Okay?" Glenn murmured, his lips barely moving, and Serge could only barely catch the words. Serge nodded, then switched the grip of the swallow in his hands. The two charged the monster that was standing between them and the colonel, and knew in their hearts that they would feel very little remorse for killing another human this time.

Serge dodged left, avoiding a punch that would have sent him careening into the far wall, and skidded to a stop before leaping forward, drawing the attention of the creature away from Glenn with a well placed Aquabeam. The creature howled and lumbered towards the blue-haired young man who resolutely stood his ground. The monster suddenly jerked and its tail snapped out in time to catch Glenn, who had done damage to its flank, in the stomach, sending the dragoon flying. Serge voiced a wordless cry, but knew the best way he could help Glenn would be to defeat the monster. He ran in close and opened a long cut along one of the creature's massive forearms and reversed his hold to smack it on its snout, making it jerk, leaving Serge time to deliver a point-blank Aeroblaster to its stomach, sending it back a few meters, but not nearly as far as Serge would have liked nor doing as much damage as he thought the element should. He saw Glenn join him, and gave him a mirthless smile before turning his attention back to the problem at hand.

He asked if Glenn had been able to determine its Innate element.

Glenn shook his head. "It's all so muddled that I can't say for sure."

Serge made a dry comment that had Glenn chuckle faintly before they both charged the creature, Glenn coming up on it at an angle as Serge met it head on.

The creature roared and pounded the earth, making the ground wobble unsteadily beneath the two warriors' feet. Serge faltered, but that perhaps saved his life as its tail lashed out at him, poison dripping from an unsheathed barb at the tip. Serge nearly screamed when a drop fell on his forearm, the burning almost unbearable. Still, he had a battle to win. He pushed himself up and lunged to the side, slicing into the returning tail with his swallow. He held his ground as best he could, but found that the thick muscle was covered with strong scales that were hard for his blade to pierce. Still, it was keeping the one truly long-range weapon the creature had out of Glenn's way. With a grunt, Serge angled the blade so it wedged itself between the scales, and with a sickening lurch and the sound of brittle bone snapping the lower part of the tail fell away, cut by Serge's blade. Serge stumbled and nearly fell on his face from the sudden release of tension, but caught himself before he fell.

He turned to face the monster, only to find himself trapped in a Bushbasher element. He winced as the sharp barbs punctured his skin, and cut his way out, blood oozing from a dozen tiny, stinging wounds. It was with more than a little malice that he used a fireball on the gaping wound he had caused. The monster screamed and writhed, turning its attention back to Serge.

By Glenn's efforts it had lost one eye and the cavity where an arm had been was now sprouting sickly tentacles that were trying to bind Glenn. Serge did his best to run towards it, but faltered when the ground shifted and grew hot beneath him. With a soft swear he dodged to the side, but not fast enough to escape getting burned by the Volcano element. When he pushed himself up he nearly cried out in pain. He had landed badly and his right ankle hurt like a bitch.

With a watery snarl he stood, only to be knocked back by a ferocious, yet faltering, punch. He slammed into the side of the cavern and felt a sickening lurch in his left arm, accompanied by a soft, sick pop. He grimaced as he struggled to his feet before making his agonizing way over to the battle. He managed to get in close and performed a series of brutal strikes on the creature's other arm, eventually cutting through it to the point where it was hanging by only a shred of muscle to the rest of the body. He jumped back as the creature circled in pain, its steps causing the ground to wobble.

Serge looked at Glenn and asked him whether he had used _that_ element yet. Glenn shook his head and Serge gave him a lopsided smile. The two charged their combined tech skill and executed X-Strike, cleanly cutting through fur, scale, muscle, and bone, coming out on the other side of the monster, thick grey blood coating them both.

They both were breathing heavily, and with a gulp of air, Glenn looked at Serge and nodded. He would take care of the creature. Serge could deal with the real monster.

Serge searched for the colonel, pain making him light-headed. He shook his head to try and clear the fuzziness that threatened on the edges of his vision and instead focused every scrape of energy he had on finding his tormentor.

There he was.

Serge moved with more speed than he thought he had left, dodging bullets that were sent his way by the surprised and panicking soldier. Serge executed a brutal slash that cut the hand that was holding the gun off at the wrist, sending it flying in an arc of scarlet blood. The colonel screamed and clutched his hemoraging arm to his body, growing pale with fright and pain. Serge kicked the colonel in the stomach, making the man double over before Serge's knee connected with the colonel's chin, sending him flying backward to land hard on his back. Serge stalked over to the colonel and placed the tip of his swallow at the now-prone Colonel's throat. Glenn walked up, having just finished using Carnivore to dispose of the now-dead monster. Glenn's eyes were cold and clear, rage contained beneath the smooth glass surface.

"Now," Glenn murmured softly, "you are going to tell us why you are here."

The Colonel was either brave, stupid, or both, as he managed to sneer at Glenn.

"Why should I tell you?"

Glenn gave him a kind, mocking smile. "Because my friend will be more than happy to finish what he has begun if you don't."

It was the truth, too, the Colonel saw when he looked up into Serge's face and eyes. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Why do you think? The mainland is getting overcrowded, and this archipelago is barely inhabited. Expansion is the way of the world."

"And you intended to expand by ridding the main island of human life by the use of these monsters? Did you ever stop to consider that maybe that when you were finished with the natives here that you would have to deal with the monsters yourself?"

From how the Colonel wasn't answering, Glenn and Serge guessed that he hadn't.

"Incompetent, short-sighted, egotistical..." Glenn quickly ran out of adjectives to describe the prostrate Colonel, disgust in his eyes and voice. Glenn turned away from the Colonel, who relaxed marginally. The relaxation was the last thing he felt as his throat was sliced open by a deliberate, precise cut from a spectral swallow.

---

Serge caught up with Glenn, who looked at him, a question in his eyes.

The small, sad, satisfied smile was all the answer that Glenn needed.

"Do you still have enough energy to cast Ultranova? I'd imagine that would take out the majority of this compound."

Serge nodded, and commented that they ought to find a way out first. Glenn nodded in agreement, and the two walked through the tunnels, stunned and frightened Privates hiding in doorways and corridors from the weary, blood-soaked warriors. It took them a half-hour, but the pair eventually found a tunnel out. When they had reached the top of the steep slope, Serge cast Ultranova and watched in mute satisfaction as most of the compound was sucked into the magical vortex only to be obliterated by the following explosion. Serge and Glenn hardly felt the small pebbles that peppered them as the earth resettled after its displacement. Once the dust had settled and the network of tunnels that had been created were exposed, the two finally allowed themselves to relax.

"We're finally finished here," Glenn sighed, relief in his posture. Serge nodded in agreement, his body starting to sag under all the abuse it had undergone. Serge stopped to catalog all his wounds and was ashamed of himself. Dislocated left shoulder, sprained left wrist and possible broken right tibia, probable stress fracture in his right forearm. A great many shallow cuts peppered the bare parts of his body, along with a slightly deeper wound bleeding sluggishly through a cut in his pants along his outer right thigh, accompanied by a number of minor burns as well as one he couldn't feel but could see on his left thigh. He was a better warrior then this, to get so injured. True, he had just faced dozens of high-powered monsters, one enormous threat, a great deal of Porre privates, along with element abuse from all parties; he had a very many good excuses for being so battered.

Glenn was better off, but, again, he hadn't gone through everything Serge had, and was also wearing considerably more armor. Even so, Glenn's posture spoke of bone-deep weariness.

"Let's get out of this Valley," Glenn said, and began to trek up a path that had been cleared by the Porres for easy access to and from the base.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they were going home.


	7. First Battle of Termina

Author: Chrono Cross equals not mine.

Glenn sat in the infirmary at Viper Manor, looking at Serge's sleeping form.

He had failed Serge. Serge had trusted him, and Glenn had failed. He had more or less _allowed_ the Porres to abuse Serge, use him as a test for the strength of their monsters, and leave him weak and exhausted from all the battles they pushed him through. Glenn had _failed_ Serge.

Though, admittedly, the tongue-lashing he had received from Serge was both amusing and disheartening. It had been the longest Glenn had ever heard Serge talk, but the subject was something he would have rather not talked about. Glenn had lost some of Serge's trust due to the spectacular failure of his plan.

After they had left the Valley, Glenn had taken care of Serge's wounds as best as he could, but he did not know how to set bones, nor how to pop a dislocated shoulder back into place. So he did his best to heal the wounds that could be taken care of simply with healing spells and consumables and make Serge comfortable. It had taken them longer than Glenn would have liked to reach the Manor, but with Serge injured they had to take it slowly so as to not complicate anything.

Which brought him back to the current time, with Serge deep asleep and him feeling guilty. He should have been there to help Serge True, he hadn't meant for them to be separated, but...

"Sir Glenn?"

The voice startled Glenn out of his revere and he turned to look up at the castle healer.

"The young man will not heal any faster with you brooding over him than if he was just given time to rest on his own. You look like you need rest, too. Go and get a good night's sleep. I will have someone get you when this young man wakes up."

Glenn nodded and pushed himself upright, and winced as all his joints snapped back into place. The healer gave him a patient smile and pushed him gently out the door. Glenn turned as the door closed behind him a sighed.

She was right. Brooding would do no good. He should go and make a formal report to the general. That would briefly get his mind off of Serge's current condition. He nodded to himself, deciding that it was a good plan, and moved to execute it.

---

Glenn waited in the library adjoining the general's suite, and idly looked over the books on the shelves. Some were history, others, tactics, and a few biological and astronomical texts. Glenn was amused to find a few fiction novels mixed in with all the academia, but his musings were interrupted by the entrance of the General.

"Sir Glenn."

"General," Glenn murmured and saluted his leader.

"At ease. I assume you are finished with your assignment in the Valley if you are here."

"Yes. Serge and I investigated the phenomena thoroughly and managed to trace it back to a single source. The mutation of the monsters was nothing natural; instead, it was eventually discovered that the monsters had been created by humans."

"Created?" the General exclaimed, startled and interested. "By whom?"

Glenn's eyes grew hard. "Porre."

"They are here? This is bad..."

Glenn nodded agreement. "However, if the Valley was the only base they had, they no longer have a foothold in El Nido."

"Really?"

Glenn nodded. "Serge and I destroyed it."

The General leaned casually against his desk, masking his amazement with movement.

"May I inquire as to how?"

"Serge took out all the electronics that supported the creation of the monsters, and together we took down the man who was leading the group in the Valley. Serge then used the Ultranova element to destroy the rest of the physical base."

"I see." The General was impressed in spite of himself. "You have done a very good job, then. Your father would be proud."

"Thank you, sir," Glenn murmured, flattered. "However, there will still be some mutant monsters around, but they will die eventually and cause a problem no longer. I tried to get as many as I could on the way out of the Valley, but I most likely missed a few."

"I see. I will send a group of dragoons to finish cleaning up." The General thought for a moment as Glenn stood waiting. "I want you and that young man to rest for a while. After that, you will be stationed at Termina along with some troops. When Porre attacks, they will most likely go after either here or Termina, so I want Termina to be secure. Zoah will be going with you."

"Thank you for your trust, Sir."

The General chuckled and gave Glenn a small, kind smile. "You need not thank me. Now, go. Clean yourself up, get something good to eat and turn in early tonight. You will need your rest, if Porre indeed decides to attack. Dismissed."

Glenn saluted the General again, but before Glenn could leave, the General added, "Also, thank that young man for me. He did an admirable job as well, if he was able to keep up with you."

Glenn's back was to the General, so he did not see the soft smile that briefly graced Glenn's face. "I will, sir." With that comment, Glenn left, closing the door securely behind him.

---

Glenn's eyes flew open, his breathing fast and shallow, drenched in a cold sweat. Slowly he sat up, feeling the sheet hesitantly fall off of damp skin, cold air caress the back of his neck, making him shiver.

"A dream..." he murmured, relieved but still tense.

Glenn looked over at the empty bed next to him and felt a residual wave of anxiety flow through him.

'No. No, he's fine,' Glenn thought, trying desperately to reassure himself. The dream had been so _vivid._ He never dreamed something that felt so real. If he closed his eyes he could still see the panic and pain on dream-Serge's face as certain death came at him in the form of an indistinct terror, intent on consuming him, which Glenn was unable to fight.

'Never again,' Glenn swore to himself, 'will I ever leave him. We'll always work together from now on. I get the feeling Serge wouldn't mind anyway.'

Glenn ran a hand through slightly-damp hair and sat upright, trying to slow his heartbeat and even his breathing. He would wait until the adrenaline wore off to even attempt going back to sleep. So instead he thought, and wondered. Why had he dreamed about Serge? Was it purely out of guilt? A feeling of helplessness? It was...odd.

'Serge is a friend, and a good one,' he thought to himself. 'Of course I'll worry about him.' Glenn looked again at the empty bed beside him, and felt an irrational surge of nervousness once more. With a sigh he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid them into his shoes. He threw on his undershirt and left the barracks quietly. He _needed_ to see Serge, if only to confirm his continued existence. He quietly padded down the hallways, passing the personal quarters of the Devas, greeting the few sentries with a polite nod before continuing on his way. He descended a flight of stairs, made a few turns, and finally came to the hospice wing. He opened the door slowly, trying his best not to cause any noise. Still, the light and sound of the hallway coming in alerted the on-duty healer who greeted Glenn with some concern.

"Are you alright, Sir Glenn?"

Glenn nodded and gave the healer a small smile. "Perfectly fine. I just wanted to check up on my friend."

"You mean the young man with blue hair? He's in no condition to see visitors."

"I don't need to speak to him. I just need to know that he's...healing..."

The healer was confused, but didn't press. "He's this way. But try to be quiet."

Glenn nodded his understanding and followed the healer. The hospice looked so different at night than during the day. The healer showed him to the cot, then left, telling Glenn to be just as quiet on the way out and everything should be fine.

Glenn looked at Serge's sleeping form, noting the even, deep breathing, the color in his face, the peace on his features, his relaxed form.

Serge was fine, he was healing.

He was not dead nor dying.

It had been a dream and nothing more.

Glenn's hand reached out as if to touch Serge to make certain that he was real, but Glenn stopped himself. He might wake Serge, and that would make the healer angry, and angry healers could make your life miserable when you were injured. They tended to remember things better than most people. He stood there for a moment more, assuring himself of Serge's continued existence before turning around and quietly leaving the infirmary, feeling as if he could sleep now.

---

It took Serge the better part of a two weeks to heal completely, and by his third bed-ridden day Serge was beginning feel as if he should be_doing_ something, rather than just sitting around. True, the healers were good company and Glenn would come by as often as he could, but Serge wanted to move. The healers were concentrating almost entirely on his arm and leg, as those were the injuries of most concern. They had popped his shoulder back into its socket the first day after he had woken and had mended his burn with Ointments and other nasty-smelling herbal balms over the course of a week. It had been a little uncomfortable, but no damage came out of slight discomfort. Having nothing to do, he spent time taking care of his swallow and mending his other equipment. His pants were barely more than shreds and his vest had taken a beating from all the combat they had seen. The Black Plate was holding up well, but a few of his accessories needed to be cleaned or mended. Not being too skillful at repairing things it took him longer than most, since one arm was more or less out of commission. The moments that Glenn was with him were the highlights of his days, and more and more he found himself wanting to remain in Glenn's presence. This might come from having worked with Glenn and having survived a near-death situation, but it might also be some confirmation as to whether he thought of Glenn as something more.

Serge occasionally wondered what Glenn thought of him, but never decided to ask--it would be an awkward question anyway. Once he was cleared to move, free of possible sites of infection, strains, breaks, or sprains, he and Glenn were ordered off to Termina to join the contingent of soldiers that had been sent before them, as well as assume leadership positions under Zoah. Even though both desired action, the vacation had been nice...

---

Serge stood on the lookout spire near the entrance of Termina and leaned on the sturdy rock, watching the sun set. They had been in Termina for two weeks now, and there had been no sighting of anything remotely resembling Porre. Serge didn't really mind, as the downtime allowed his injuries to finish mending entirely. Serge felt that Porre would either attack at dusk or dawn so he had to pay the most attention during those times. He had signed up for the noon to midnight shift, while Glenn had, regrettably, signed up for the midnight to noon shift, so they barely saw each other these days. The times they did see each other was when they brought each other donated meals from the town or relieved the other for the day. It was slightly depressing for Serge, but he could tell that Glenn wanted to spend more time with him than the other soldiers, which was a slight booster in his day. It was about halfway through his shift; Glenn should appear soon with dinner. It was always nice to share at least one thing with him, especially as the light died. Serge always thought that dusk was the prettiest part of the day, which was probably why he took the evening shift. Sure enough, he soon heard someone climbing up the ladder and spared a glance behind him. Dying sunlight played across platinum-blond hair and copper armor, and Serge smiled slightly before turning back to face the sea.

Glenn hoisted himself over the last rung and stepped into the space next to Serge.

"I get the feeling that the woman at the bar likes us; she always gives us the best food, I feel," Glenn said softly, a smile in his voice. He set a small box of food in front of Serge before looking out to sea as well.

"It's been quiet for some time. Do you think Porre would have attacked somewhere else first?"

Serge shook his head and reminded Glenn that when Porre had invaded in the future they had gone for Termina first; after all, it was the only city of any stature in the islands. Guldove was hardly worth note, no human would bother with Marbule, and why attack the Manor first? There would be less resistance at a civilian city.

Glenn nodded and sighed. "Though the wait seems unbearable. After being on active duty for so long..."

Serge smiled faintly and took a bite of the bread (still warm!) in the box and looked out to sea. The two stood in companionable silence, the only noise the cries of seagulls and the languid movements of pedestrians on the street beneath them. Serge finished his dinner and handed the empty box to Glenn, who tucked it under his arm. "I'll see you at midnight," Glenn murmured before he started to climb down the ladder. Serge turned back to face the ocean and suppressed a sigh. Glenn was right--the wait was nearly unbearable. Serge shifted his swallow in its holster and returned his attention entirely to the watch. There was plenty of time to ponder the problem of Glenn later; right now, he had people to protect.

Glenn being one of them.

---

Serge was woken abruptly by the sound of gunfire, and he was immediately on his feet slipping on his shoes and armor. Once appropriately clothed he rushed outside, dodging confused citizenry. He ran up to the best viewpoint and saw Porre ships approaching rapidly.

What would be the best way to get to them? They had long range weaponry. What did El Nido have that they didn't?

Elements!

Serge called out to the soldiers around him to ready their elements that had the longest range. They would try to destroy as many of the ships as they could at a distance to counter the projectile weaponry. Zoah backed him up on this order as the helmeted man appeared on the scene. Serge looked up and over his shoulder and gave Zoah a small, nervous smile before moving on to another part of the city to spread the word. As he was moving he managed to see an Aerosaucer slicing out into the bay, cutting into the metal hulls of the boats. The element didn't hit anywhere vital, but it did make the Porres wary. Soon he saw Aquabeams, Fireballs, Photonbeams, and assorted other elements slamming into the Porre fleet. Serge was surprised when he saw the Blue Whale summoning, though. He didn't think anyone save Fargo had that particular summon...

They weren't winning by a longshot, but they were stalling the Porres, and the surprise that the Porres had wanted was fading as the sky grew brighter.

Serge finally joined the battle after relaying the order to use Elements through the entire line of defense, only to discover that Porre was making an alarming amount of process. He thought quickly as others powered up their elements.

Most elements were ground based. Even ones such as Tornado and Thundastorm required a ground, as did most Black elements. What elements _didn't_ use a ground? The answer hit him and Serge immediately cast Meteor Shower after Meteor Shower until he was out of the element. It did a significant amount of damage, and when coupled with Meteorite punched holes in the hulls of the Porre ships, making them flounder in the water. Meteorite was a fairly common White element, and once the other dragoons caught on it was used almost exclusively. Serge backed away from the wall to let the relief troops have a fresh shot at the stubbornly floating ships, his elements exhausted. He leaned against a nearby building and sighed.

What a way to wake up.

Even under the onslaught, the Porres redoubled their effort, taking out an entire side of the bay's defense system. Had he not been busy trying to preserve as many lives as he could on his side of the bay his heart would have skipped a beat at the thought that Glenn might have been caught in the destruction. As it was, the soldiers were panicking under the destruction of part of their stronghold, and Serge had to refocus them. They hadn't won yet, though they did seem to be getting closer. Serge belatedly saw the gun turrets turn towards his position and froze. If they took a direct hit here...

Serge jumped and rolled away from a projectile weapon crashing into one of the buildings, littering him with pebbles and nearly crushing him with a few larger chunks from the sturdy stone. Serge felt worse for the owner of the house than his own body. His body would heal--it would take effort and cash to rebuild. He pushed himself up and looked around for where he could help while his elements refueled. Seeing a number of soldiers knocked unconscious by the flying debris, he ran over to them and began to drag them away from anywhere they could be seriously injured, which was harder than he thought it would be, since he had to navigate the very rocks that had hurt them while dodging newly-created hazards. He turned away from his task when he heard a cheer, but forced himself to finish what he had started before running over to the wall. He turned to a dirty, worn, nearby soldier what had happened.

"We sunk their flagship," was the proud response. "Seeing that, the other ships are running away!"

Serge gave the man a small smile, then turned to face the sea, confirming what he said.

In the harbor the prow of a once-proud battleship was sticking nearly vertical out of the water, Porre's flag swirling dismally in the churning water. Slightly further towards the horizon, Serge could see the retreating forms of three smaller ships, still firing spiteful projectiles every now and then, though they were limping in the water from the puncture wounds caused by Element usage. Serge couldn't stop a small, grim smile from appearing on his face. He nodded once, then looked around. Time to assess the damage.

--

Although the dragoons had won, it had not been without damage. Quite a number of buildings had been reduced to rubble, including the watchtower that Serge and Glenn had been using. General Viper's statue was now in pieces, and Van's house was reduced to merely foundation. The Smithy had been remarkably spared, save for scars from flying rubble, while the house next to it was only scraps of wood. All over there were scars of destruction, bodies of both soldiers and civilians trapped beneath stone and each other. For a long-range battle the toll had been surprisingly steep. As Serge overheard one soldier saying to another,

"If we hadn't used our elements, I don't think we would have survived."

Serge thought that any strength should be used to its advantage, especially if the other group was unsure as to how to use what you possessed. From being in El Nido, the Porres had to have known about Elements, but he imagined that being from a very technological mindset they wouldn't be able to understand exactly how the Elements worked. As he was walking a sudden thought hit him that nearly made him stop breathing and his heart beat erratically.

Was Glenn hurt?

Serge began to walk _very_ quickly towards where the main camp was set up. The Inn was donating its rooms, and the now-exposed kitchen of the bar was passing around water, food, and stiff drinks. Serge went up to a soldier and asked where Glenn was.

"Sir Glenn? He's overseeing the arrest of any surviving Porre soldiers. He volunteered for it, which is odd. Not many want to do what amounts to clean-up duty. But, I guess it's necessary."

Serge thanked the soldier and found the path to the bay, jumping down rocks and avoiding debris, all while trying to prevent a concussion( he had enough of infirmaries). He eventually found Glenn helping to drag in half-drowned Porre soldiers, removing their weapons as they floundered onto the small beach. Serge saw the same process being repeated on other parts of the bay, and sighed. Yes, he had saved their lives, but he had also wrenched away others. But that was the nature of battle and survival, wasn't it? Hadn't he been taught that by the Dragon Gods and FATE?

Still, it wasn't a truth he particularly liked.

He approached Glenn, who was sorting the various weapons and overseeing the process of apprehension and stood silently next to him, waiting for Glenn to acknowledge his presence.

"It's sad, isn't it?" Glenn murmured softly as another weapon was added to the pile, another drenched soldier being led away. "They come in expecting an easy victory, and find instead defeat." Glenn watched as a still body washed up on the shore and sighed softly. "It's all because of you that we've survived this encounter."

Serge asked why he was being given the credit.

"You took the initiative, didn't you? I was analyzing the situation, but you went and took action before I could finish working out all the possible ways we could survive. Thanks to you, we're here taking the Porres into custody, rather than the other way around." There was a pause, and a wry smile passed across Glenn's face. "I also did not expect the battle to be over so quickly, either. You're very ingenious."

Serge waved the compliment away and turned back to the beach. He asked if the commander had been caught.

"The Commander decided death was the better part of honor and so killed himself before the flagship was sunk. We have a few Generals and Lieutenants, though, so we should be able to get information from them."

Serge nodded, intrigued to see this side of the warrior Glenn.

Then he wondered if he would ever get to see the softer side, and immediately dispelled the thought. Now wasn't the time to ponder that particular idea.

"Are you going to stay here and help me? There isn't much left to do, but any help is appreciated."

Serge nodded, and told Glenn that he'd stay. Glenn gave him a smile, then turned to the beach.

"They're lagging a little bit at the shore. No-one wants to touch a dead man, but it must be checked nonetheless. Are you up to doing it?"

Serge replied that if he had managed to survive being nearly killed by dozens of different things as well as seeing the person who had tortured him lying dead at his feet, he could probably survive. Probably.

Glenn nodded, solemn, and sent Serge off, then wondered if it was merely bravado as Serge reached the water's edge.

---

The toll was admittedly worse for the Porre than for the dragoons, but there was still some loss of life. Most of the dead were crushed by debris from explosions caused by Porre's long-range weaponry, though a few were killed directly by the weapons. There were a few civilian casualties, but overall minimal lives were lost.

The news spread around the town as the soldiers rested and Zoah interrogated the remaining officers. Serge was lying on his back looking at the fading sky when he felt someone standing behind him, just out of sight. He stood and turned around to face a person he had no desire to see.

"Oi, mate. Heard you're the hero of the town," Kidd said as she looked Serge over.

Serge told her that anything she had heard was probably highly embellished.

"Hasn't had time to get there. I jus' wanna know what make ya so special," Kidd said as she stood next to him. Serge had to exercise a great deal of will to keep himself from sliding away from her. As it was, he was trapped, having chosen a secluded spot to rest and reflect on the day. So, instead he shrugged and said nothing.

"A quiet one, eh? They always say the quiet 'uns are the most dangerous."

Serge remained silent, and desperately prayed for someone to come and find him.

Kidd crossed her arms and tapped her foot, looking at him intently. "You told me yer name before, but I've forgotten it. Y' are...?"

"Serge! There you are."

Serge turned and almost withered with relief. Glenn.

Glenn looked at Kidd and gave her a small bow. "I'm sorry to take your company away, but he is required elsewhere. Have a good evening, and stay safe."

Glenn shared a look with Serge and they took off together, walking at a leisurely pace away from a confused girl.

---

Glenn didn't know why he was feeling so...so...defensive about Serge being with Kidd. The minute he had seen them together he had felt an irrational anger form inside him. He was glad he had remained civil, though it had been a fight. When Glenn had known Kidd he hadn't_disliked_ her, so he couldn't entirely understand what had changed since then. Admittedly, he couldn't entirely tell who he was irritated with; there was a possibility it could be Serge, but that would make even less sense. They arrived back in the general populace sooner than Glenn could finish his train of thought, and were pulled into a small celebration over the defeat of the Porres.

Glenn and Serge tried to have fun, but both had a nagging feeling. Eventually they managed to break out of the subdued festivities and locate Zoah.

Serge let Glenn do the talking. The enormous muscled man still made him nervous, even though he wasn't an enemy anymore.

"Sir Zoah," Glenn addressed him.

Zoah turned and looked at him. "WHAT?"

"Serge and I feel that this is not the end of the Porres. We wish to explore the rest of the coastline and alert any villages to the possible threat. Since you are the one in charge here, and will report this directly to the General, do we have your permission to do so?"

Zoah looked(well, Serge thought he looked) at Glenn for a long moment, then nodded. "YOU MAY. I WILL TELL THE GENERAL OF YOUR ACTIONS. DO YOUR BEST TO ENSURE THE SAFETY OF THESE ISLANDS. WE WILL BE ABLE TO TAKE CARE OF THINGS HERE."

Glenn saluted the burly figure before turning to return to the city proper. Serge gave Zoah a polite bow before following Glenn.

Serge easily caught up with the thinking warrior and fell into step beside him. He asked Glenn what had him so pensive.

Glenn blinked and looked at Serge. "It's nothing. Just silliness."

Serge pressed no further, but he could tell that whatever was occupying the dragoon's mind was more than just "nothing". The two let the rooms in the Inn go to those who needed it most; the injured and the dying. They found a sheltered spot and, after negotiating with some of the locals for two blankets, attempted to settle in for the night.

Due to both of their quasi-nocturnal schedules, both were very awake as the night progressed and the celebration died down.

Serge commented that Glenn seemed to be thinking over nothing still.

Serge felt rather than saw the wry smile. "Maybe."

Had he figured out what was wrong?

Serge felt Glenn shake his head. "Not yet, but I'm getting there."

Serge looked up at the sky and a small smile brushed across his face. He asked if Glenn remembered flying through the sky with Starky in that old boat they had borrowed from Macha. Glenn couldn't help but smile, brooding thoughts fading as he recalled the wonder he had felt.

"It was amazing...I don't think I can ever hope to enjoy something like that ever again."

Serge nodded slightly, and looked over at Glenn.

The moonlight turned Glenn's pale hair silver and made his blue eyes glow. The copper shone dimly beneath the silver light, shadows encroaching only where the blanket began. Serge saw this and his heart yearned for something he couldn't entirely put a name to yet, but knew that it would begin, and end, with Glenn. Serge looked away before Glenn could notice he was staring, and closed his eyes. He murmured that he was going to try and get some sleep, especially if they were going to start their sweep of the main island the next day. Glenn saw the wisdom in this, but couldn't entirely fall asleep, so remained looking at the stars. Gradually he felt Serge fall asleep, his breathing becoming even and deep, a slight snore escaping his lips now and then. Glenn found himself smiling softly, and shook himself, surprised.

He needed to rest, obviously. Serge was right; they were going to be busy from tomorrow on. Glenn resolutely closed his eyes and leaned back against the stone, dropping slowly into unconsciousness.


	8. Coastal Sweep

**Author**: ahaha...so, in celebration of finishing my GRE I picked up my video game console and decided to visit an old favorite. That, of course, inspired me to go back and look at this fic and revive it. There's been a bit of a change in my writing style and quality control (at least, I _like_ to think that), so it might seem a bit of a jump from chapter 7 to this one. Too lazy to rewrite the first few chapters. Here's the first update in...gods, a really long time. -_-b sorry.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned this video game, Kidd would have remained dead.

---

Serge walked calmly beside Glenn, his nervous embarrassment carefully concealed. The cause of his embarrassment was still very clearin his mind, the occurrence endlessly repeating in his consciousness, even though some time had passed.

Three mornings before—the morning that they were to start their sweep of the coast to see if any Porre ships happened to pass their way—Serge had woken up feeling warm and comfortable, which had made movement undesirable. Nonetheless, he had forced his eyes open, and discovered that overnight he had snuggled close to Glenn, his head resting against the dragoon's chest, his arm across Glenn's torso. Glenn's left arm was curled around Serge, hand resting lightly on his shoulder, while his head was resting gently against the top of Serge's. Serge was startled, and prayed that no-one had seen them. The young man had done his best to extract himself gently, but ended up waking Glenn anyway. Thankfully, by the time Glenn had regained full awareness, Serge was had disentangled himself from their semi-intimate position.

Serge had bid Glenn good morning and Glenn had yawned and murmured a half-coherent reply. Serge said nothing about how he had found them, and the two had left with little fuss after telling Zoah about their plans for departure.

Now they were walking down the coast parallel to Fossil Valley, three days having passed uneventfully. Serge doubted that either of them would willingly go into the Valley anymore, not after what they had experienced. Serge knew that it would take something dire to make him go back in _willingly—_for the most part_, _the only way to get him into the Valley would be to forcibly drag him in.

"Serge?"

Serge jumped at his name and looked over to the Glenn, who was obviously amused. "Did I interrupt anything?" the dragoon asked.

Serge shook his head, saying that he had merely been caught up in his thoughts.

"Apparently," Glenn murmured. "I was asking your opinion on the lack of Porre presence we have come across."

In their travel, the two had come upon a few small fishing towns—not unlike Arni—and had spoken to the inhabitants about possible Porre presence. The reply they received was always the same: the villagers had seen Porre ships in the distance but had never been bothered by them.

Serge sighed and toyed with the harness of his swallow. It wasn't necessarily a _bad_ thing, the lack of presence. Still...

"It means that they might be causing more trouble elsewhere," Glenn finished for him, his own hands resting lightly on the hilts of the massive swords at his sides. "Nevertheless, it's best to not borrow trouble. The villagers we have come across are content, fishing is decent, and life goes on. How funny to think we were so close to the end of everything we know..."

Serge nodded and was lost, once again, to his musings. They were currently near Cape Howl and Serge was struck with a morbid curiosity—was his 'tombstone' still there?

That night they camped a mile or so outside of Cape Howl, deciding to make their way Arni the next day. While Glenn prepared their dinner, Serge slipped away and wandered to Cape Howl, dodging nocturnal monsters with practiced ease. Too soon he found himself standing in front of the stone, and with some trepidation he knelt to see if there was an inscription.

There was.

His epithet.

He read the inscription, tracing the shallow, fading engravings with his fingers, remembering the first time he had seen the stone. _Everything_ had begun then. He had met Karsh, Solt, Peppor, and Kidd not long after arriving at the Cape (had the dragoons been _stalking_ him?).

He looked back on that first encounter and wondered what could have _possibly_ possessed Kidd to try and 'help' him. Did he not look like he would survive a duel with those three? He _was_ weak back then, yes, but Karsh and the others weren't much stronger.

He shook the dark memories away and stood, brushing sand off of his knees and gloves. He turned to return to camp and was surprised to see Glenn standing behind him.

"It belongs to you?" the dragoon asked softly.

Serge nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder at the stone.

"How funny, to think that you're dead in this world when I can see, hear, and touch you," Glenn murmured pensively.

Serge had to remind himself that what Glenn had said _probably_ wasn't meant how Serge wanted.

Glenn gave Serge a small smile, then turned, the dying sunlight flashing off of his armor. "Come on. We should eat before night falls—less food will attract fewer wandering monsters to our camp."

Serge watched Glenn's retreating form briefly before he trotted to catch up with him. A realization had taken some time to dawn him, but it took that morning a few days ago to solidify it in Serge's mind.

He wanted Glenn, and it was torture.

–

"Here we are," Glenn murmured, he and Serge stopping just out of sight of Arni. "You sure you want to do this?"

Serge smiled and shrugged—it wasn't like anyone there _knew_ him. He would be a stranger, not someone who had lived in the village his entire life. Here, he was _dead._ The tombstone had proved it.

Glenn nodded slowly, "You have a point. Well, then. Shall we?"

Serge fell into step next to Glenn, approaching the village.

The old man at the entrance to Arni blinked when he saw them approaching, probably astonished at the fact that they were getting visitors at all. The two warriors stopped in front of the entrance, and the dragoon addressed the 'gatekeeper'.

"Is your chief available?" Glenn asked politely. "We would like to have a word with him."

The old man stared for a moment, he obviously looking them over in pure curiosity before he murmured, "I don't know, but I can get one of the children to find out for you."

With surprising volume and energy the 'gatekeeper' called over one of the children, "Go see if the chief is busy. Come back and tell me when you're done." While the child ran off with his orders, the old man turned back to the pair.

"What brings you down here? Not much happens, save the occasional storm," he said, not bothering to keep the curiosity out of his voice.

Glenn smiled and said, "I am sure you will find out soon enough, once we speak to your chief."

The old man made a sound of understanding, though he was obviously disappointed.

Serge remained silent, instead watching the village activity. He felt a strange..._detachment_ from everything. As if, while this _had been_ his life it wasn't anymore. It was his past, and, to him now, seemed dull, repetitive, constricting. It meant nothing compared to the freedom that was at his side...the adventure that was Glenn.

Eventually, the child returned. "He's free, 'specially since I told him you were a _dragoon," _the child chirped, sounding slightly smug.

Glenn nodded slowly, "Would you mind leading us to him?"

"No problem," the child said happily before turning his attention to the gatekeeper, "Though I _do_ expect something from you, old man."

The child laughed at the old man's glower as he led the warriors towards the hut where all the 'governing' occurred.

They arrived there quickly enough, Arni not being particularly large, and the child bowed them in with a flourish. The dragoon chuckled as they entered, and Serge smiled gently.

The chief was standing in front of his 'desk', curiosity blatant in his posture. "May I ask what brings an Accacia dragoon here?"

Glenn bowed slightly, then said, "My name is Glenn. The reason my companion and I are here is to inquire as to whether or not you have been harassed by the Porre military."

"Porre?" the chief repeated with a small frown. "You mean the mainland? No, nothing has happened here. A few of our fishermen have been made nervous by mysterious ships sharing the waters, but nothing's ventured near here."

Glenn looked relieved. "That's good. I'm glad they haven't bothered you. However, I would ask if you would remain on the alert. The dragoons cannot be everywhere, though I know I wish _I_ could be," Glenn finished in an almost wistful tone.

The chief gave Glenn a puzzled look, and when he spoke, it was with undertones of admiration, "I see. Well, I'll tell our fishermen to be careful." The chief looked over to Serge and frowned. "You seem apprehensive. Is something wrong?"

Serge blinked and looked at the chief, turning away from gazing out the opening of the hut. He shook his head and murmured that he simply had an...attachment to this part of the island and would hate to see anything bad happen to its inhabitants. Serge paused and turned an idea over in his head before he hesitantly asked the chief if he would mind if he trained some of the villagers in self-defense. Just in case.

The chief looked surprised by this request, even if Glenn did not. "Really? Are you truly that worried about such a small village as ours?" the chief asked.

Serge nodded solemnly.

The chief leaned back a little further onto his 'desk' and crossed his arms as he thought. "I...suppose that would be okay. I don't see anything _bad_ coming from it. You wouldn't take time away from our fishermen?"

Serge shook his head emphatically. Never!

"Ever since rumors of terrible monsters filtered down from the interior, some have been nervous. I, unfortunately, can teach my people very little—I am no warrior. You, if you really _are_ serious about training them, might provide a much needed outlet for energy in the young ones." The chief paused and a wry, amused smile formed on his face. "It would certainly keep them out of their parents' hair," he ended with a chuckle. He looked Glenn and Serge over, then nodded. "Alright. As long as you promise to not cause trouble, I will find a place for you to stay. You'll receive room and board for your services, since we don't have money to pay you with."

"We would have done it for free anyway, sir. It is a dragoon's job to protect the inhabitants of El Nido; training them in the use of arms counts as doing so," Glenn told the chief, voice and eyes serious.

The chief blinked then chuckled. "Gotcha. Come. We ought to introduce you two to the people you'll be training."

Serge followed the chief out first, Glenn a step behind him. Serge already knew everyone that he was going to be introduced to, but, to preserve appearances, he couldn't act _too_ familiar. Still, being introduced as a stranger to people he had known all his life pulled at his heart, and it was through force of will alone that he kept a smile—faint and polite as it was—on his face. He met the children and the teens first, few as they were, before being introduced to the adults and elders he might have the pleasure of working with.

Re-re-meeting Leena was...interesting. She obviously only recognized him as far as she had the first time—an uneasy familiarity, but nothing else. Serge was surprised by _his_ reaction—nothing. It really _was_ true; he wanted Glenn as his partner in more than one sense. He felt _affection_ towards her, but not the same kind of emotion that set his blood alight like the emotion he had towards Glenn.

In a way, it was a relief.

He survived the introductions, and he and Glenn were shown where they were to stay—of all places, Serge's room in his home timeline.

Serge found himself smiling sadly as he set up his sleeping area, and Glenn's hand on his wrist brought him out of morose thoughts, the simple contact sending ripples of warmth through him.

"Are you alright?" Glenn asked quietly.

Serge sighed quietly and told the dragoon that the re-introductions were harder than he thought they would be.

"I'm sorry..." Glenn began, but Serge's slow head-shake quieted him.

The blue-haired youth told Glenn that there was nothing to be sorry about—the training had been _his_ idea, afterall. And anyway, with Glenn at his side he could survive anything.

Glenn smiled whimsically and let Serge's wrist go. "Very well. We should get some sleep. Things promise to be interesting starting tomorrow."

Serge nodded and shucked his shoes, laid his weapon down carefully, and took off the heavier, more constricting of his armor, having placed the black plate beneath his denadorite mail. He laid down carefully and closed his eyes, trying to make himself fall asleep.

Unfortunately, slumber evaded him. He heard Glenn's even out into sleep, and Serge sat up slowly, looking at the dragoon lying next to him. He could barely make out the young man's features in the dim light, and found it interesting that the dragoon, too, felt safe enough that he could take off the heavier bits of his armor. Serge tentatively reached out and brushed some of Glenn's bangs off his face, his fingers just barely brushing Glenn's skin.

It was interesting to feel the dragoon's skin with his bare fingers. He kept his gloves on almost always, so any skin contact tended to be at a minimum. However...now he could feel the warmth of the dragoon's face against the tips of his fingers, and he carefully drew them down the curve of the young dragoon's cheek.

Glenn made a small sound and turned his face into the touch, making Serge flush in embarrassment in the darkness. What was he _doing_? He withdrew his fingers and laid his hand in his lap, it taking every ounce of his will to make it stay _still._

But, now a part of him ached to touch the rest of Glenn, and an even larger wanted to claim the dragoon's lips with his. It would be a certainty against whatever residual attraction he may have for Leena, a reminder of why he was in this Other World in the first place.

Serge laid down with a muffled, disgruntled sigh, he on his side facing Glenn. The Chrono Trigger noticed that one of Glenn's hands was peeking out of the blanket he was using, the arm bent at enough of an angle that the hand rested a little ways away from his body. Serge spent a long time looking at it before figuring that it was no more compromising than how he had found them a few days earlier, to have his hand near or on top of Glenn's hand. Serge shifted to lie on his stomach and tentatively reached out, placing his hand so it was palm down next to Glenn's, his pinky just barely touching Glenn's. With the minimal, yet somehow satisfying, contact, Serge was able to fall asleep quickly, feeling as warm as if he was in Glenn's embrace again.

–

Serge stood at ease next to Glenn, who was treating the children before him _very_ seriously, addressing them as if they were new recruits of the Accacia dragoons. The motley crew of household-item-bearing kids that stood at attention were a source of pride and amusement to Serge. He knew that right now they saw it as a game—and Glenn and he would strive to keep it that way, since it would hold their attention longer. Serge was the one in charge of the children, since together, they had decided that Serge was the better candidate, having been around the village children his entire life, while Glenn was tasked with training the adults in rudimentary combat.

Right now, though, Glenn was introducing them to what they would be learning. Since he was a dragoon, both he and Serge had agreed that it was more likely they'd take Glenn seriously—and when he handed them off to Serge, that he would introduce Serge as a kind of "dragoon-in-training," much like they themselves were.

They figured it'd work. They wouldn't know until they actually started applying themselves, however. Glenn reached the end of his carefully prepared speech, and looked expectantly at Serge, who stepped forward.

"I trust that you will show Private Serge as much respect as you have shown me," Glenn said, tone remaining serious. "I expect the best from you, since you _are_ the best that this village has to offer. That is all."

Glenn saluted them and there was a sloppy mix of bows and salutes that obviously amused the dragoon. He gave Serge a polite nod before walking away.

Serge turned to the children, who gave him expectant looks.

Serge gave them a smile and told them that they were going to show Serge their skills, so he knew what to teach them—since with their obvious appearance of strength, they surely knew a few things already.

A good number puffed their chests out in pride, making Serge's smile grow. He picked out two of the children and told them to show him their skills.

Everyone's level was just as Serge remembered.

Once they were all done, Serge grouped them all together and began to teach them.

The day passed with alarming speed, and soon enough the kids were called away to help with household chores, leaving Serge alone in the practice field, a small smile on his face. He watched the sky's colors change, swallow held lightly, loosely in his grasp.

This was different. Before, when he had trained the kids, they had always done it as a take-it-or-leave-it type of thing. These versions, however, obviously knew a little of hardship and danger, and so paid attention.

Perhaps there had been some closer calls that the adults were willing to admit to. Afterall, children tended to find the trouble before the adults did.

Serge sighed softly and strapped his swallow back into its harness as Glenn arrived, the Holy Swords tapping lightly against his well-armored thighs. "How were they?" Glenn asked softly once he was next to Serge.

Serge commented that they were as good as any children their ages could be. It took minimal effort to keep them on track and they caught on quickly; Serge hypothesized that they _had _met some Porre soldiers, and just never bothered to tell their parents.

Glenn nodded slightly, a frown on his face. "Perhaps. Would they really do that, though?"

Serge affirmed Glenn's statement before saying that children get up to a lot more than their parents know about.

Glenn winced. "That's...not good."

It's life.

"I suppose." Glenn sighed. "C'mon. I bet you haven't eaten at all today, have you?"

Serge retorted by asking if Glenn had had any.

The blush that stained the dragoon's cheeks was answer enough. Food it was.

Serge smiled and pointed Glenn towards the village 'inn', following him closely.

It was actually kind of fun. It was being home, but at the same time, wasn't. He didn't have his mom to ask any awkward questions about who the 'handsome young man' was (because that would be exactly how she phrased it), but he was still capable of interacting with people he knew his entire life. It was...surprising, how content it made him.

He and Glenn received a warm welcome from the owner, and while they had the same fare as anyone else, there seemed to be a little extra effort in its preparation. Perhaps they had made a good impression...?

Once satiated, they went out into the quickly-fallen night, making their way to Serge's house in his home world, bidding good evening to this world's occupant before heading up to their shared quarters.

"How'd you do today?" Glenn asked softly as he sat down after having taken off the heaviest of his armor.

Serge replied that it had actually been quite fun—it was nice, training the children again.

"Again?"

Serge explained that being the oldest young man, it tended to fall to him to keep the brats in line.

Glenn chuckled and laid down, hands clasped behind his head. "This is...a nice change of pace."

Serge smiled and nodded before he, too, laid down. Fun it may have been, but it had also been exhausting and sleep quickly claimed him.

–

Kayla hid behind a shrub, and peered carefully through the tropical foliage, her heart beating quickly.

There they were.

Her hand tightened around the wooden spoon, and she looked to the girl on her left, who was holding a broom. They nodded, and slunk through the plants, meeting up with another group.

"They're near the pier," Kayla whispered in the dialect particular to their village.

The other children nodded, and after a brief, quiet conversation sent two of their group off to alert the adults while three kids went off to implement the first of many invader-deterrents.

The soldiers walked arrogantly on the dock, obviously expecting no resistance from such a small fishing village. They were brought up short by an old man standing at the junction between earth and water, and the commander glared at him.

"What do you want, old man?" he asked in the gruff voice of one unused to speaking the El Nido language.

"Just wanted to make you feel welcome," the old man answered cheerfully. "This here village is Arni..."

The invaders shifted on their feet, obviously annoyed, but not rude enough to kill the native (yet), since it seemed as if he truly wanted to be helpful. Behind the leader there were small splashes as a few of the invaders were brought down into the water without time to vocalize a cry of surprise, knocked out and then pushed lightly into the waiting arms of a swimmer to be hidden beneath the dock. Once the old man had run out of things to say, he stepped aside, letting a mildly disgruntled commander past, though the captain did indulge himself in a small, spiteful shove. He stalked through the village proper, ignoring the residents as the residents ignored him.

The captain was brought up short—_again—_as the chief abruptly appeared in front of him.

"I'm the chief here," the man said cooly. "What may I help you with? Come, let me bring you somewhere where we can talk in privacy and comfort."

The captain was obviously about to protest, but the chief ignored him and instead turned and walked away, forcing the captain to follow or else risk losing face in front of a gathering crowd and his own men. With a huff of annoyance, he followed the chief into the courtyard near what served as the village governing place, only to have him and his men set upon by angry, determined youths wielding household items with alarming skill. The soldiers were surprised and confused, and so did not react as quickly as they had been trained to, although one did manage to set off a shot into the air, startling the group; however, it was the only resistance on Porre's part.

With smug satisfaction the women tied up the soldiers, backing away to look at their handiwork.

Serge grinned up at those assembled from his seat on the ground and tested the bonds. He commended the women on the knots being secure and the children on their ability to remain quiet and attack all the appropriate places. Both groups beamed at him, and Glenn approached from out of the crowd to untie those who had posed as Porre soldiers.

"Serge is right. You all did marvelously. I think that if something _should_ actually happen, you're more than prepared."

Serge and his faux army stood, and the men returned to their families, offering their own praise. Serge looked over to Glenn as he stood beside him.

"They don't need us anymore," the dragoon murmured softly.

Serge agreed, amused that it had taken two weeks to get rudimentary defenses in place.

"Perhaps we've stayed here too long...?"

Serge shook his head. What they had been doing was productive; it wasn't like they had been lounging around doing nothing. Some of the bruises from the frying pans _still_ hurt.

Glenn nodded, seeing Serge's point. "We have to leave now, though."

Serge agreed, slightly sad.

"Don't worry," Glenn said softly, putting a hand on Serge's shoulder. "We'll be seeing them again."

Serge sighed softly, and stated they ought to leave now, else he find a reason to stay.

Glenn nodded and left Serge's side, went and spoke briefly to the chief, and returned with a small bag, obviously embarrassed and chagrined.

Serge asked what was inside.

"Some money. Apparently they've been taking a collection to thank us."

Serge was equally astonished and couldn't hold back a smile.

Silently, they left the village, heading off to continue their sweep of the coast.

–

As the two made their way towards the Hyrda marshes, the villages became more well-protected and infrequent, which probably stemmed from being near the harsher environments of the Hydra marshes and Mt. Pyre. The land around the marshes wasn't very good for farming for the few villagers who chose to build inland villages, and the waters around Mt. Pyre were treacherous even for the most skilled fisher. There was also the deterrent of more and stronger monsters, which most people tended to avoid. There was still a kind of awe about Mt. Pyre and the relic it contained, which was another reason most humans didn't build near it. It somehow felt like...defiling holy ground.

There were reports of strange activity in the Hydra marshes, with the monsters becoming more restless than usual. This worried Serge and Glenn, for the last time monsters started acting strangely, the two had discovered a Porre base. It definitely warranted further investigation. The question was—which was more important? Should they continue their sweep of the coastline, since that was where more villages were, or look into matters in the Hydra marsh, even though there were less humans nearby (for a number of reasons)?

When they heard of threats from Porre ships off the coast, some fishing vessels having been lost due to raids for supplies by the Porre soldiers, Serge and Glenn decided that was the more pressing of the two. Better to teach those in a more direct line-of-fire how to protect themselves then spend time wandering around the marshes. Still, Serge and Glenn vowed to look into the marshes once they were done their reconnaissance and aid, since the rumors made them nervous.

As for the raids, bringing battle to civilians was unacceptable in Glenn's eyes, and if Serge hadn't been there Glenn would have run himself into the ground looking for any sign of Porre. Serge was quietly seething as well, but knew the value of rest, and so forced it on Glenn, nearly having to sit on him a few times to keep him from pacing restlessly, and needed to point out on more than a few occasions that if Glenn was tired, he might miss an important detail that would help them stop Porre.

"It's just that I hate arriving too late to do anything. It's…_frustrating._"

Serge gave Glenn a sympathetic smile and said that one day they _would_ arrive soon enough to do something, and then the Porres would be sorry.

Glenn flashed Serge a brief, fierce smile before nodding. "You're right. It's no use brooding over. We have to be prepared when the moment comes, though."

Serge nodded and agreed. However, preparation included _rest_.

Glenn chuckled and nodded. "I suppose. We _are_ going heading into rougher territory…"

Rougher territory indeed.

Glenn smirked faintly before his eyes focused on the horizon, a sign that the dragoon was lost in his thoughts. Serge sighed and readjusted the weight of his pack. They bought supplies at each village they came across, but he was getting sick of cured fish and vaguely moldy-bread. What he wouldn't do for _real_ food...

Serge could smell the marshes long before he could see them and sneezed.

Glenn agreed, "It _is_ very unpleasant."

After a moment of silence, Serge asked if Glenn thought Porre would use the Marsh as a base.

Glenn paused, thought, then slowly shook his head. "The thing that is keeping us away from it is probably an equal deterrent to the Porres. Also, it has no strategic value—"

The Fossil Valley had strategic value?

"Well, yeah. It's the easiest way to get from one side of the island to the other, has lots of pockets where people wouldn't travel...a very good place for a base, as we discovered."

Serge nodded, understanding. The two turned away from the route that would take them to the marshes and continued to follow the coastline.

The terrain was getting rougher, and there were fewer places where it would be prudent to build a village. Still, there were a few islands that they could see from the shore, and Serge found himself idly wishing for a boat. That way they could check out there, too. It was entirely possible that there was a small population on one of the larger islands.

One day, the two came across a village that was obviously in mourning. Serge stopped Glenn from bolting to it, the immovability of Serge's grip making the dragoon trip and fall onto his back so that his eyes caught Serge's.

Serge told the dragoon that the appearance of a dragoon, whose help they could've used _sooner_ would be bad for morale and Glenn's safety. Serge said that he would go investigate. He let go of the dragoon's arm and walked around the fallen soldier, who was regarding him with a dazed, baffled gaze.

Serge walked to the village, hesitating for a moment before entering. There were mourning symbols everywhere, and evidence of previous damage. He found the largest number of villagers at the dock—although the fact that there were more _in_ the funerary boats that _outside_ them was a punch to his gut. He listened to the funeral prayers, adding his own from his religion, and watched with equal solemnity and silence as the deceased's boats were set aflame and out to sea.

Eventually, the woman who had served as the priest turned away from the sea—she was far too young, probably a number of years _younger_ than Serge—and caught sight of him. She stiffened, which made the remaining villagers panic and whirl to face Serge, who quickly put his pack and weapon down, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm.

The priest walked through the villagers and caught his eyes, which Serge met evenly.

"Wandering spirit, what brings you here?" she asked in a voice heavy with grief. "Do you need help passing on?"

Serge smiled tightly and said that he was as flesh and blood as any of the villagers—not a youkai or zombie or corpse out to prey on the living. He had been passing and caught sight of the village. He had come searching for provisions. When he saw the state of the village and the funeral, he had stayed to offer his own respect to the deceased.

The priest's eyes were searching before they dropped, her shoulders slumping under an unseen heavy weight. "We are incapable of offering you supplies, stranger. We have barely enough to survive to storm season."

Serge winced. They were worse off than he thought. He hesitantly asked how all this had happened.

The priest shook her head slowly, sadly. "Mainlanders."

Serge paused before offering a deep, respectful bow, apologizing for his intrusion and wishing them comfort in their grief.

The priest made a weak sign of blessing over Serge before he departed, and the gesture meant much to the young man—even in grief, the priest was still compelled to look out for others.

Serge walked out to where Glenn was waiting, and the dragoon frowned when he appeared.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Serge smiled bitterly. Too late. Again.

Glenn swore and stalked off, hands tight on the hilts of his Holy Swords. Serge watched him go for a long moment before moving to catch up with him, heart heavy.

Sometimes, Serge thought that the demi-humans had it easy—they could blame the human species in general for the misfortune of the world, and their own suffering, as they were not human themselves. Serge, however, could only curse his own race, which seemed...inappropriate, when it also contained members like Glenn. He supposed that was the case in any situation, though—there would always be good beings and bad ones. There was never any one race that was 'good'. Everyone looked out for his or her own interests.

Serge sighed and increased his pace, hoping that Glenn didn't hurt himself in his internal anger at never being in time to help the people of the islands.

–

Serge sat down with a sigh on the sand and looked out at the sea before him, Glenn standing beside him, hands resting pensively on the hilts of his massive swords.

"We've gone as far as we can this way," Glenn murmured.

Serge nodded and commented that if they wanted to examine further on the main island they would need to go back towards Termina and then to the Shadow Forest.

"You're right. We haven't been there yet. I guess I worried less about there because the Manor was nearby and the dragoons would be closer at hand. We don't have any bases near here."

Serge commented that they should.

Glenn nodded in agreement. "I'll have to talk about that to the General." After a pause, Glenn sat down on the sand next to Serge and voiced a sigh of his own. "It feels like we've been traveling forever, doesn't it?"

Serge nodded slightly, then after a pause murmured that he found he didn't mind. He liked traveling with Glenn—it felt...natural. He supposed it was because of their running all over the islands to save the world.

Serge caught Glenn looking at him oddly and gave Glenn a small smile, which the dragoon returned. Glenn replied softly, "I'm enjoying traveling with you as well; active duty doesn't seem so bad anymore..."

Serge's heart gave a jolt of _hope_ that maybe, just _maybe_, Glenn felt the same way about him. Reality cut that hope to shreds though, saying that in all actuality, that was probably not the case. Had Glenn _ever_ given _any_ solid hint that he could be interested in Serge as more than just a friend? Not really. So Serge remained silent, trying to keep the war between his hope and pessimism carefully controlled.

The two sat in silence for a while, before Glenn frowned and stood.  
"Do you see something on the horizon?"

Serge looked where Glenn was and nodded. It seemed to be getting larger...

Glenn's eyes narrowed. "We have to get to cover. Maybe whoever it may be hasn't spotted us yet."

Serge nodded and the two ran back to where dune grass covered the beach. Hopefully it would be thick enough and the people would be distracted enough not to notice their presence. Still, one could never be too careful.

The pair remained still, watching as the shape on the horizon grew and resolved itself into a small military transport, which disgorged its contents of Porre soldiers after beaching itself. Serge frowned, his hand slowly moving to his swallow. Glenn gave him a quick glance that said, 'Not yet,' which Serge respected, even though he didn't really want to. So they sat and waited, Glenn listening carefully and Serge relying on him to interpret.

To Serge, the conversation between the Porre natives sounded like nothing so much as meaningless chatter, which strangely irked him. He wanted to know what was going on, but didn't want to bother Glenn, as the dragoon was obviously concentrating quite hard.

Still, that wouldn't stop him from trying to discern what they were saying via their tone of voice and body language.

None of them sounded particularly happy. It was easy to discern who was the commander in the small exploration group. They were arguing about _something_, and from how one of the soldiers was holding himself, the heat was obviously wearing on him—perhaps all of them. Complaints were fielded, reprimands were made, but it all seemed to be...exhausted, in a way.

Serge looked over to Glenn, questions in his eyes.

"They're here to look for villages and us. They don't want to be here. They're scared of the monsters." There was the smallest note of smugness in Glenn's voice that made Serge grin. Serge asked softly if they should scare them away by pretending to be monsters, and Glenn frowned.

"That's not professional."

Serge replied that while it might not, did Glenn _really_ feel like fighting?

Glenn slowly shook his head. "So you're offering that as an alternative?"

Serge nodded and added that it would probably provide stress relief as well as some fun.

"Fun," Glenn murmured. "Sure. Why not? When did I last have any kind of 'fun'?"

Serge gave Glenn a wry smile and Glenn responded with a small smirk. Glenn moved carefully in the grasses, deliberately making some brief snatches of noises while Serge collected some dune grass and other nearby objects that would make him seem larger and less human. He heard a note of unease enter the Porre's voices and barely stopped himself from snickering. Instead, he made small, soft, short noises of what he remembered the Komodo dragons and sandsquirts of his home making. There was a shot in his direction, but it went very far from where he was, and he heard a brief conversation that was obviously of a scolding nature. He finally completed his disguise and stilled. There was complete silence for some time and Serge could feel the Porres relaxing. It was then that he jumped out of the dunes, making as much noise as possible and keeping his humanity hidden as he ran towards them.

The majority of the privates bolted back into the ship, while the commander and some brave soldiers stood their ground.

The addition of a second, equally grotesque monster made those left leave quickly.

Glenn and Serge stood at the water's edge, making a racket as the ship left. It was only once the two could tell the Porres were long gone that they stopped. There was a pause, before being broken by soft chuckles that grew into loud, full-bodied laughter. Once their initial reaction died down, the two looked at each other and burst into laughter again. Glenn walked over to Serge and picked some dune grass out from under his bandanna, still chuckling, and moved a piece of seaweed that had flopped over his eyes.

Glenn was obviously about to make some comment about Serge's choice in materials, but, strangely, the words seemed to die in his throat and he shivered and stepped back slightly.

Serge proceeded to tease him, asking if Glenn was scared of him, too, which made Glenn huff in mock anger.

Serge shed all the dune grass he had shoved down his gloves, shoes, and bandanna, removed sea shells, abandoned seagull nests, and other safe detritus, making himself less the beach monster and once again the human as Glenn did more or less the same.

"That was…satisfying," Glenn said as he shook the last bits of sand and rocks out of his boots, sounding almost puzzled.

Serge agreed entirely. Things had been so demanding that acting so silly was a relief.

"I've never done anything like that before, you know," Glenn said, looking at Serge. "Have you?"

Serge nodded. Once or twice as a favor to parents and a couple other times when the kids of the village needed someone to play a monster in one of their games. He wasn't surprised that Glenn had never had the experience—Termina didn't have the kind of materials that would be used, and then training at the Manor wouldn't encourage such play.

"You're right," Glenn affirmed. Slowly, a relaxed, pleased smile made its way across Glenn's face that made Serge's heart flutter.

"Well, we should find better shelter. They may come back with greater force."

Serge hoped that wouldn't be the case.

"We can't be too careful."

Serge nodded, understanding but unhappy.

"Come on," Glenn murmured, taking Serge's hand and leading him away from the shore, the contact sending chills through Serge.

–

Glenn sat on the rock, breathing slightly ragged as he watched the Porre vessel speed away, hands tight around the hilts of his swords. Serge stood on the shore, stance rigid as his eyes, too, traced the path of the foreign vehicle. Serge swore before stalking over to where Glenn was sitting, spouting curses with each step.

"I'm trying to find something positive to say, but am failing," Glenn murmured in a hoarse, sad voice.

The sortie that they had been another added to the growing number of confrontations they were met with. While they had prevented excessive amounts of damage done and loss of life at the villages they had helped along their path back towards Termina, it was grating on Serge and Glenn's nerves. They were tiring quickly, and their consumables were completely exhausted.

The pair had decided to go along the coast until they came to a place where it was convenient to branch off towards the Marsh, but when the first village they visited they were beset by Porre soldiers, they had decided that the people of the island would be better served by he and Glenn going along and stopping at each village long enough to teach basic defense and help patch things up. It was grueling and depressing, but at the same time kindled an even greater fire to see Porre off the islands, which made them work all the harder.

The days were blurring into each other—walk, fight off a Porre invasion of one kind or another, help stricken villages repair. It was a steady stream of activity that was leaving them more spent than any other time in their careers.

Life had become so _complicated._

Serge idly asked where they were on the island, since he had lost track of the geography of the area. Glenn paused and rifled around in his pack for the home-made map they had created on their sweep _towards_ Mt. Pyre.

"We're actually not that far from Arni," Glenn murmured, vaguely amused.

Serge, however, did not find that cause for amusement and asked how far they were from it and how long it would take to get there.

"No more than half a day."

Serge readjusted his pack on his shoulder, face set in determination. If Porre had hurt _anyone_ in Arni...

Serge's pace picked up, and he didn't notice that he was leaving Glenn behind. All that mattered was that he get to Arni before anything dangerous did.

However, they found the village in the middle of a celebration, which made Serge relax. People don't celebrate unless they feel completely secure. As they entered the village, a few children caught sight of them and rushed them, talking too fast for either young man to comprehend.

"Woah, slow down. What happened?" Glenn asked as a smile tugged at his lips.

One of the children gave them a wide, gap-toothed smile. "We won!"

Serge couldn't help but smile back. It seemed as if their training had been worthwhile.

A number of the little ones took each man's hand and dragged them towards the courtyard where the party was. When everyone else caught sight of them there was a shout of greeting and wide smiles. The two were confused but returned the greetings, all while searching for the chief.

When they finally caught him, Serge asked what the celebration was about.

The chief smiled and said, "The Porres came here wanting supplies and to chase us out, but we would have none of it and sent them packing! Right?"

A roar of agreement from behind them made Glenn and Serge jump slightly.

"Now, as you are the ones who allowed us to defeat them, why not join us? There's more than enough food and you can stay overnight."

"We—"

"Oh, relax. Celebrate a success! There's precious few of them in the world as it is."

Glenn and Serge looked at each other. Serge shrugged and said why not? The food would probably be better than the stuff they'd been scrounging.

Glenn sighed softly, but smiled. "Alright. Just tonight, though."

Serge nodded, and the two allowed themselves to be pulled into the festivities.


	9. Moving On

**Author**: Heya. Sooo...I think that this updating-once-a-year for this story is going to be an...erm...common thing. Kind of like one of my other stories...which I feel bad about...ANYWAY. Here's more fanfic for your reading pleasure! :D Reviews are love, but so is your patronage!

**Disclaimer**: Oh, I _so_ wish.

Silence surrounded him.

It wasn't just _silence,_ it was the utter lack of sound.

Serge had heard this silence before, and his heart twisted in his chest as anxiety pooled in his stomach. He stepped forward and recoiled from himself, thoughts running frantically around in his head, proclaiming that what he was seeing was impossible, that he had been returned to himself, that FATE had been disposed of, and so consequently had Lynx.

Yet now he found himself in the body he had worn for...days? Weeks? Months? It had felt like eternity, and he had always been distantly aware that how he appeared wasn't who he was. It nearly drove him mad, being in another's body, but he had remained outwardly serene. Always, though...always he _knew_ that it was _wrong_.

Now he was returned to his not-body and everything felt warped again.

A growl bubbled up in his throat and he raised his head, looking before him.

He was in the Dead Sea again. Not the Sea of Eden, but the _Dead Sea._

It explained the lack of sound.

He continued forward and pushed aside the cobweb-y strands of time that tangled around him, that sought to keep him in the time-space he thought he had annihilated. His steps fell flat in the still gloom, the chill pressing in on him.

This time around, he wasn't even given the grace of company.

Then again, what he was doing and where he was _couldn't_ be real—FATE had destroyed the Dead Sea and he had destroyed FATE. Two impossibilities did not make a possibility.

Well, that's what he thought anyway.

He walked steadily towards the Tower that loomed darkly in the distance, bypassing the myriad of phantasmic creatures that sought to sink their unreal claws into him and claim him for a forgotten future.

He reached the Tower faster than he had before, but he expected as much—this wasn't _real_, so things happened differently.

Time flowed differently.

He entered the main rotunda of the building and his heart briefly stopped in his chest.

_Glenn_.

The young dragoon was there, accompanying the Devas and the General, his face set in both determination and resignation.

Serge took a step towards him and, for the first time, the area around him reacted to his movement, his step making a loose piece of rock skitter away from him across the metal floor.

Glenn seemed to be the only one who heard, and turned around quickly, hand on his sword.

The two of them locked eyes and Glenn blinked. "Sir Lynx? What are _you_ doing here?"

Serge looked down at himself again, at the furry, sharply-clawed hands, at the thick black fabric that covered his arms and sighed inwardly.

Serge was surprised to hear himself purr, "To check on your progress of course."

He had forgotten how smooth, deep, and resonant Lynx's voice had been. It was a seductive voice, that could wrap words so thoroughly around others' minds so that ideas that they thought were their own were simply _his_ imposed on _them_.

Glenn hesitated, looking back at the General and the Devas, who had stopped.

"Lynx?" Karsh frowned, obviously attempting to control his dislike and intrigue.

"Like, what're _you_ doin' here?" Marcy drawled, blue eyes narrowing to slits that would impress any feline.

Lynx's posture changed to one of amusement, he arching an eyebrow in incredulity. "Again—I have a..._vested_...interest in your success. I felt that it might require a..." his eyes slid to Glenn, "_personal_ touch."

Glenn looked torn between being embarrassed, disgusted, and intrigued.

Serge was horrified with what he was saying. Was _he_ saying it? Or was Lynx saying it?

Or, in the end, was it some kind of hybrid of them both? Was some part of him...still Lynx?

He moved silently, fluidly forward until he reached the group of dragoons, but his eyes were only on Glenn.

"If you continue to follow this path, you will meet your FATE. Do you still wish to continue?" he inquired, the question marginally meant for the entire group.

"To change this world, we _must_," the General said with solemn vehemency. "Follow if you wish, but don't stand in our way."

With that the General turned to continue, and Lynx smiled ever so faintly. "I wouldn't dream of trying to hinder _your_ progress, General."

The Devas followed the General after a beat, but when Glenn moved to do so as well, Lnyx's hand was on Glenn's forearm, stopping his forward motion.

"I thought you said you wouldn't hinder our progress," Glenn said, glaring at him.

Lynx tilted his head slightly in amusement. "I said I wouldn't hinder the _General's_ progress. Yours however...I made no such statement."

"I am under the General's command," Glenn replied uneasily, Lynx having slowly moved in closer to the young dragoon.

"Only as long as you desire it. I remember you telling me that if your morals and values came into conflict with your duty as a dragoon, you would follow what you felt was right. So, you're only loyal to the General as long as it suits your purpose."

A flash of disbelief washed through Serge—how could Lynx know that? Unless...he still carried a part of Lynx with him?

Glenn's eyes flashed in indignation. "I said no such thing to _you_, Lynx."

"But you _did_..." Lynx murmured, clawed fingers catching the trailing ends of Glenn's bandanna, making the dragoon try to wrench free of Lynx's grasp.

Lynx let the dragoon go, but his claws remained tangled in the bandanna, keeping Glenn from moving _too_ far away.

"Tell me, Glenn," Lynx purred, eyes closing to pleased half-slits. "Where does your loyalty lie?"

"To the General!" the dragoon replied vehemently. "Now, let me—"

"Go? I meant it when I said that if you follow this path you will meet your FATE."

"My fate lies with the General—not with _you_."

Lynx sighed in wry amusement. "Perhaps not with _me.._.but what about with Serge?"

Glenn blinked. "Who?"

"That's _right_. This you has never met him," Lynx murmured, tearing off a part of Glenn's bandanna with his claws. "Then I pose it this way—if you were ever to have to decide between following your _precious_ General's orders or the well-being of your beloved, which would you choose?"

Glenn looked baffled and took a few more steps away to put space between himself and Lynx.

Serge felt equally confused by the statement—_was_ he Glenn's beloved?

"I..." Glenn frowned. "Why ask me such a thing? Why am I still talking to you?"

Lynx's posture was relaxed, he leaning on the scythe that was his weapon of choice. "Because I intrigue you. And you don't _really_ want to be here."

Glenn hesitated again before his face and frame fell into an expression of pure stubbornness. "It would depend on the situation. That is all I will tell you."

Lynx tilted his head to the side. "Are you sure you want to continue? This is the last time I'll ask. Do you want to go to meet your FATE?"

"My fate lies with my allegiance. As my allegiance is not to you, I follow the General."

"So if you had allegiance to someone else and it came into conflict with your allegiance to the General, who would you choose?"

Glenn looked confused, then frustrated. "This conversation is over. Right now, my loyalty is to the General. If, and this I doubt, my loyalty ever gets transferred to another, I will protect them and follow them." Glenn paused and looked over his shoulder. "I have fallen behind. Good day, Lynx."

"Goodbye, for now," Lynx said rather smugly, watching as Glenn ran off to catch up.

"Perhaps it is better that there is only one of you. I doubt I would know how to deal with that menage-e-trios."

Lynx's weight transferred back onto his feet and he slung the scythe over his shoulder.

The motion seemed to peel back something, leaving Serge behind as Lynx faded into the darkness. Serge blinked and looked at his hands, which were no longer clawed, at the bare, human skin where black cloth used to be. His head snapped up and he took off at a run, his feet once more disturbing nothing, making no sound. He rounded a corner and ran _through_ Glenn, stopping mid-stride and nearly stumbling on himself as he turned quickly to face the dragoon.

The dragoon had stopped moving, his hand on his sword, looking around with wary sky-blue eyes.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

Serge answered that it was he, that Glenn _had_ to turn back.

Serge had _very_ vivid memories of how he had found Glenn—or what was left of Glenn—in the Dead Sea. He had a sinking feeling that no matter what he did, Glenn would continue anyway, for this was either a _very_ realistic dream, or Serge was someone caught in a fleeting loop of the time just before Glenn met his fate.

Glenn frowned, he obviously hearing _part_ of what Serge was saying, but not everything.

Eventually, the dragoon shook his head and continued forward. Serge reached out to grab the dragoon's arm, but his hands passed through it effortlessly.

Glenn stopped again, however, a shiver having gone through him. The dragoon looked about once more, then frowned at himself.

"This place is getting to you, Glenn," the dragoon muttered to himself before stepping forward with a purpose.

Serge reached out to touch him again, but this time the dragoon's steps hitched only slightly at the caress of Serge's ghostly hands.

Serge could do nothing by watch as the young man he cared for was killed, in a manner, his life being drained slowly away from him until only a echo remained, his body and soul being used to power FATE and the Frozen Flame.

Serge found himself powerless in the face of events that had already transpired, and it left a sour taste in his mouth, a bitterness at how Glenn had met his demise in such an ignoble fashion. Serge was torn between a thousand emotions—anger at FATE, confusion at when he was-was-not Lynx, and a deep sadness at Glenn's death.

Glenn was dead.

Was he?

No he wasn't.

Yes he was.

In his Home World yes, but in _this_ one in the _Other_ World...

Serge pressed his hand to his head, his mind tumbling in a thousand different directions, a deep sense of foreboding and anguish washing over him.

The world turned on itself in interesting ways, and Serge scrambled for a foothold before he came roughly back to himself, the transfer to waking almost _violent._

His eyes cleared from the dream to focus on the very alive, very _real_ dragoon that was leaned over him, the young man having been the force that had woken him.

Serge grabbed reflexively onto Glenn, one hand clinging to Glenn's forearm while another pressed against Glenn's shirt, wanting physical confirmation that the form above him had a beating heart, was still alive and well. That Glenn was _real._ That he hadn't expired in the Dead Sea, become nothing but a whisper in the time-stream.

Serge was a thought away from pressing his lips against Glenn's to make _absolutely_ sure that the dragoon was _real_, but Glenn's voice and hand caressing Serge's face made Serge's breathing even out, moisture coming back to his mouth, heart-beat gradually slowing.

"Are you all right now?" Glenn murmured softly, his eyes only half-open in sleepiness.

Serge nodded slowly, the motion making Glenn's fingertips trail lightly down Serge's cheek.

"That was a bad nightmare," Glenn half-whispered, lying down once more, facing Serge.

Serge smiled wryly and replied equally quietly that it had been _very_ unpleasant, his hand releasing Glenn's forearm to be pulled back to his own chest.

Glenn's lips twitched at the understatement. "You don't have to be afraid of anything," Glenn murmured. "I'll protect you. I promise."

To Serge's surprise, Glenn took his hands in his own and held them gently but firmly. "I promise."

Serge's lips twitched and he gave Glenn a soft smile, replying that he knew Glenn would. As long as he could protect _Glenn._

Glenn chuckled slightly and curled around Serge's hands, thumb caressing one hand lightly. "Of course."

With that, Glenn's magnificent, clear blue eyes fluttered shut, and it was all Serge could do not to squirm at the happy butterflies that were rioting through him. Glenn's hands were _warm_ and _real_, the dragoon was a solid, living presence beside Serge.

Serge was flattered by Glenn's promise to protect him, if only because he knew that it meant that the young man would do anything in his power to keep him safe. While that would be _annoying_ at times, it was also...it meant _so much_ in so many different ways.

Serge closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, his dreams much more pleasant.

–

As Serge woke the next morning, he half-expected Glenn to have withdrawn his hand and to be regarding him with some sort of negative emotion.

While he did find Glenn no longer holding his hand, Serge could catch a thoughtful look on the dragoon's face, as he was lying on his back and looking at the ceiling, his hands lightly clasped across his torso.

Serge grumbled an inquiry to the time.

Glenn started, but relaxed when he registered who had spoken and what had been asked. "A half-hour before sunrise," Glenn answered, sitting up, blankets pooling around his waist. "Your people were very kind to give us shelter for the night."

Serge waved the comment away with an 'of course' gesture. He sat up himself and stretched, back cracking in interesting ways, making him wince. After his bones had resettled, he looked at Glenn and asked as to where they were to head next.

Glenn grew thoughtful and drew patterns on the blanket that had been given him, drawing Serge's gaze, which was quickly transferred elsewhere.

"I guess we continue up the coast, yes? We _were_ planning on going back to Termina."

Serge nodded in agreement. They _had_ spoken of Termina. After all, they had been away for quite some time.

Glenn frowned and cocked his head to the side. "How long _have_ we been away for?"

Serge shrugged. It didn't matter to him.

Glenn's lips twitched in a small smile. "Mm. Well, we still have to check in on the villages along the area before Termina. That might take some time, so we should head off as soon as we can."

Serge nodded and pushed himself to his feet, catching the blanket as it fell off him. He folded it nearly and placed it in a corner, picking up his armor and weaponry once the more domestic matters were taken care of. He placed the black plate over his skin-tight undershirt, a denadoriate chain vest falling over the plate. Yes, the combination was heavy, but it provided protection against both magical and physical attacks. He pulled on his pants and shoved his feet into his shoes, the harness for his swallow the last thing to be put on. He turned to say something to Glenn when he saw the young man's bandanna lying on the floor and chuckled softly to himself. He picked the piece of cloth up off the floor and offered it to the dragoon, who took it with a smile. He tied it tightly onto his head, obviously feeling fully clothed now that he had his head-gear.

Serge waited for Glenn to finish strapping on the Holy Swords before he gestured with his swallow to the door, indicating Glenn go before him.

A small, amused smirk flitted across the dragoon's face before he proceeded out, Serge a step behind.

The early morning was cool, a slight breeze off of the ocean fluttering the cloths that covered windows for the night. A number of fishermen were readying their boats to head out to sea and put in another long day, working for their livelihoods and sustenance. Serge waved farewell to a few of them, and they waved casually back before returning their attention to the task at hand.

In a way, it was nostalgic, leaving the village during its waking hours, as he remembered being a part of such activities for so long.

Still, they had things to attend to, and he had a different path to walk.

A path that, he hoped, would remain firmly entwined with the dragoon who walked beside him.

Glenn gave Serge a fleeting smile when he caught Serge regarding him. "At least we've had _one _success."

Serge nodded slowly and his eyes turned to the path before them. One success out of many, he hoped.

"Agreed," Glenn murmured softly.

The morning was still quite quiet, even the diurnal monsters taking their time at rousing, leaving Serge and Glenn unmolested for the time being. The two warriors quickly turned off the beaten path, heading into more dangerous territory to get to the villages that lay along the coast. The terrain was rocky and unforgiving due to being so close to Fossil Valley (which still had the power to twist Serge's stomach into angry knots), and the shoreline wasn't much kinder, but people were capable of living in the harshest of conditions. As they had helped the people of the more fertile sweep of coastline, so would they also aid those in not-so-pleasant areas.

The villages they passed were much more fortified, the people a hardier breed than those living along the fertile coastline.

Glenn and Serge ended up staying in one of the villages, the uneven terrain possibly fatal in the night. Serge let Glenn do the talking, as a dragoon would command more respect than a wandering warrior, he falling a few steps behind him, unconscious of how protective his stance was—although he did catch a number of the villagers gave him wary, yet amused, glances.

He took in the surroundings as Glenn negotiated a place to stay, wanting to get a feel for the area—just in case.

The village was built differently than Arni. Arni was all grass-latched roofs, the buildings light and airy, letting in the salty air and warm sunlight during the day while providing a safe place from the cold during the night (not as if it was ever truly _cold_ in Arni), and most of the rains they received-where they were, however, was a much more stone-based breed. While there were, indeed, grasses and plants, the building materials were mostly stone carved from the nearby cliffs, seeming darker, but more _sturdy_ to Serge. Those abodes would be able to weather the harshest of conditions, as would be necessary, perched precariously as they were.

Serge was startled out of his observations by Glenn's hand resting gently on his shoulder.

"We have a place to stay for the night," Glenn told him softly. "I'll tell you the rest once we're inside."

Serge's eyebrows raised very slowly, but he lead himself to be lead away into the surprisingly welcoming room that Glenn had secured.

Serge placed his small pack of belongings on the ground next to a small cot and looked at Glenn, unable to hide his curiosity. He inquired into what Glenn had to be so hush-hush about, which provoked a grim smile from Glenn.

"Porre has been sighted a number of times, and have tried to make a landings—however, these people are quite resilient; they've pushed the Porres back every time. However, the _other_ news they gave me is...unpleasant. It appears that Termina has been under siege—and quite possibly have fallen."

Serge's eyebrows snapped up to his hairline.

"That's what my reaction was, too," Glenn murmured wryly. "We'll have to proceed more carefully from here on."

Serge nodded slowly as a pensive look formed on his face. How could they find out more about Termina? How the dragoons were doing, how the people were, what the status of the manor was?

Glenn sat down on the cot given to him, across from Serge, his fingers twined in each other as he fell deeply into thought.

"We will not separate again," Glenn said firmly.

Serge agreed entirely.

Serge watched as an idea formed within Glenn, and was trying to guess what it was before he spoke:

"Do you think anyone will recognize you?"

Serge frowned and inquired as to why Glenn asked.

"Because, if the Porre have indeed triumphed, they are _probably_ looking to round up any surviving dragoons, just to be complete about it. You could bring me in as a fugitive. I'm sure there's _some_ sort of bounty on dragoons—there might even be one especially for me, since I _am_ known as Dario's brother, and so am probably dangerous."

Serge didn't miss the brief inflection of bitterness in Glenn's voice over how he wasn't known for being a warrior in his own right, but instead one associated with someone else, somehow sub-par, implying he _might_ be a problem, but wasn't worth worrying unduly over.

Serge found he had reached out and placed a hand on Glenn's forearm, offering what comfort he could. _He_ had never had any siblings, and he had never had any expectations placed on him.

Glenn seemed a little surprised at the gesture from Serge, who quickly pulled away, uncertain if he had crossed some boundary.

There was a brief, awkward silence before Glenn cleared his throat and continued. "Anyway. You bringing me in would probably endear you to some of the soldiers."

But eventually Glenn would be taken away and they would be separated again.

Glenn sighed and tugged on his bandanna in a nervous gesture.

Serge distantly recalled from his dream tangling his hands in the fabric, in pulling Glenn close to him—

Serge quickly shoved his thoughts in a different direction.

"It won't do any good for _both_ of us to be captured," Glenn murmured. "Considering how well that worked last time."

Serge scowled at the floor.

Glenn rubbed his eyes gently, a sigh escaping his lips. "We _have_ to get in _somehow_."

Serge offered that maybe they should check on the Manor first, then.

"But we're _right next to Termina,_" Glenn protested. "It would be...unwise of us to waste the opportunity."

Serge busied his hands by taking off his gloves, using the mundane motion as an attempt to get himself thinking.

"Maybe we should sleep on it," Glenn muttered eventually. "Perhaps an idea will come to us during the night."

Serge smiled faintly and nodded. Sleep sounded good, if only because he was physically weary from the uneven and unforgiving terrain.

Feeling slightly uneasy, Serge kept on a little of her armor as he readied for bed, his swallow within immediate reach. He settled himself on the cot given him, and noticed that Glenn had also kept some armor on as well.

Glenn gave Serge a small, knowing smile that made Serge's heart skip a beat. The young man wondered if Glenn had any _idea_ how he looked when he gave Serge that tiny, affectionate smile, at how much it made Serge's heart hurt and his body crave contact.

Serge also decided that it didn't matter if he did or not—he would take Glenn as he could.

Serge wished the dragoon a good night, which was replied in a soft murmur.

–

Serge found himself quickly and painfully awake, his hand immediately on his swallow. A quick look at the other cot revealed that Glenn was equally alert, his body tensed to move at the slightest intrusion.

"They're here," they heard a voice whisper quietly. "Now _leave us alone_."

"Hold your tongue, man," Serge heard a voice heavily accented with Porre, which made both Serge and Glenn stare at each other.

It seemed as if they'd have to make a _very_ quick exit, and without being fully armed.

"I will let you in only if you hold to your promise," both heard the El Nido native snarl.

Both Glenn and Serge moved silently off their cots, collecting and equipping Elements. If they couldn't have armor, they would at least have _some_ means of defending themselves. Perhaps even long enough for them to _get_ in their armor. Some of the blue elements had interesting side-effects.

As Serge managed to get the Black plate on the door to their room was yanked open and Serge immediately hit the Porre soldier with an Ice Blast, causing him and Glenn to shiver violently at the sudden lack of heat. He and Glenn hurriedly pulled on what armor they could as the ice slowly melted.

They weren't _entirely_ dressed, but enough that the first round of fire from the Porre guns pinged off of plate armor.

Glenn moved first, spearing the Porre soldier with one of the Holy Swords and using the man as a human shield long enough for them to make their way out of the small entryway, Glenn flinging the dead man contemptuously at the small group of soldiers who were waiting outside for them, startling them enough that Serge had time to get out as well, ducking low, cutting off a soldier at the legs, the man losing his balance as he was suddenly reduced to stumps, his gun falling loose from his grasp.

Serge kicked the weapon away and was aware of Glenn disarming—literally—two of the other soldiers.

Glenn and he had achieved enough of a space that Serge was able to set down another ice blast to keep the unharmed soldiers from following them too quickly as he followed Glenn as he moved swiftly in the pre-dawn murk. The footing was dangerous and the nocturnal monsters had yet to return to their burrows, but Glenn and Serge had adrenaline enough that it kept them moving.

It was only once the two of them had found an effective hiding spot that they allowed themselves to relax slightly. Serge was surprised to hear Glenn curse, but when he looked over, he saw that the dragoon was bleeding badly from a wound on his thigh, which wasn't armored as heavily as the rest of him. Glenn was fumbling at healing himself with a Heal, but it wasn't enough to completely close up the wound—and he didn't have enough for a Heal Plus.

Serge checked his own energy levels and grimaced. He tossed a Recover All on them both, and it while it was enough to cause the wound to stop bleeding, it still wasn't entirely closed. Serge took a few bandages out of the pack he had managed to keep with him and told Glenn to strip from his pants.

The dragoon looked briefly embarrassed, but got over his initial hesitance and did as told. Serge carefully wound the cloth around the wound, taking care to cover all of it and keep it as tight as possible without stopping blood flow to the rest of his leg. It wasn't deep enough to warrant that.

"Are you alright, Serge?" Glenn asked, concern in his voice.  
Serge smiled faintly and murmured that aside from having some blood in his hair, he was alright.

Serge watched Glenn's gaze became pained at the reminder of the loss of life they had probably caused in their escape, and the dragoon closed as his eyes as his head rested on the rock behind him.

"Well, it seems that we're both recognizable," Glenn said with a sigh. "There goes _that_ plan."

Serge smiled ruefully.

Glenn was silent for a moment before a frustrated, almost _guilty_, look flashed over his face that told Serge he was somehow blaming himself for something.

So, taking a chance, Serge reached out and took a hand that had been curled into a painful looking fist and forced the fingers to relax. Serge told Glenn that what those people had done was part of human nature—as Glenn had told him, they had been attacked by Porre a number of times, so any way that they could get the military nation to back off they would take.

"The perhaps—"

Serge shook his head and asserted that even if they _did_ turn themselves in, it wouldn't stop the attacks. All that would occur would that the villagers wouldn't have people to defend them.

Glenn grimaced and glared accusingly at the stone they were hiding behind, as if it were the source of their problems.

Serge was relieved when Glenn's hand slowly relaxed completely in his own. "Even though I have the Holy Swords, I'm still powerless," Glenn spat, bitterness thick in his voice.

Serge frowned. They had helped Arni save themselves. They had given other villages hope as they helped fend off attacks that would have razed them, offering them strength and confidence in their own prowess. How was _that_ being powerless?

Glenn shook his head violently, and his fingers twined in Serge's, the grip possessive and terrified. "I will never be powerless like when you and I were forced apart. Maybe some of the dragoons escaped, perhaps even one of the Devas. We can search them out—there are enough places to hide in El Nido that the Porre will never think to look. Even if no-one else has set up some sort of resistance, _we_ will."

Serge found himself smiling inwardly at Glenn's resolution and purpose. It was one of those qualities that made Serge want to purr and do the very un-masculine thing of curling up against Glenn and wrapping his arms around him, keeping himself close to that undeniable, solid strength that was the dragoon.

He found that he had unconsciously leaned in a little, and caught himself quickly enough to pull back.

Glenn seemed to not have noticed, lost in deep thought, his lips forming silent words as he planned the situation out in his head.

Serge sat back on his heels and decided that he'd let Glenn work out his scheme in peace while _he_ kept them safe by tracking what was going on in their surroundings.

Eventually, Glenn's muttering slowed, then stopped, prompting Serge to look back. The young man had fallen asleep, the wound obviously tiring him—then again, he _had_ run quite a distance on a wounded limb. Serge wasn't sure he would have been able to do it.

Serge leaned in and checked the bandage he had secured to Glenn's leg before casting a small Cure on it, feeling the pull at his energy resources that told him he had nothing left to use. Serge sighed and reluctantly untangled their fingers before he moved to a crouch, peering around the rock that allowed himself to see while it blocked he and Glenn from sight.

There was nothing but monsters that wandered the terrain, but Serge refused to let himself the luxury of relaxing. He needed to keep Glenn safe.

Serge tried to keep himself focused, but his mind kept on drifting back to the young man resting behind him. Glenn seemed to be...not quite adverse to his touches. Sure, before they had been little, fleeting things—grabbing Glenn by the arm to keep him from falling, an encouraging hand on his shoulder, helping each other heal with Ointments and Braces and other consumables. To Serge, the contact sent tiny shivers of warmth through him, the feeling of Glenn's fingers lingering long after the touch was gone. But now, he seemed to be allowed to do other things, offer tactile comfort to the dragoon himself, and Serge knew he would _never_ forget the feel of Glenn's hands around his.

Progress perhaps? Maybe there _was_ a return of feelings?

Again, in the end it didn't matter—just traveling with the young man was enough.

Still...

Serge forcibly returned his attention to their surroundings, keeping one eye on Glenn at all times, just to be certain that he was doing alright.

The sun was high in the sky when Glenn stirred again, causing Serge to quickly abandon his post and take up a spot next to Glenn.

He murmured a soft inquiry into whether or not Glenn was feeling better.

The dragoon looked at him with sleep-hazed eyes that slowly cleared, focused always on Serge's eyes, stealing the warrior's breath away. Eventually, Glenn nodded.

"I'm doing better. What time is it?"

Serge guessed that it was noon-ish, which made Glenn frown.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to..."

Serge shook his head, cutting off Glenn, telling the dragoon that if they had kept on moving while Glenn was hurt, they wouldn't be able to help the people that they _needed_ to help.

"As it is, it might not be safe for us to stay at the villages any more. We should double back, or go into the interior of the island. They're probably expecting us to keep our path towards Termina."

Serge nodded slowly, then sighed. Perhaps they should look into the rumors of activity in the Hydra Marshes. Before they had needed to secure the villages—but with the Porre onto them, their presence might be more of a threat than a benefit.

Glenn let out a long, annoyed breath. "To the Hydra Marshes it is, then."

Glenn stood slowly and Serge offered him his pants, which Glenn took and pulled on, securing them tightly, looking at the break in the links where he had been wounded.

"I'll need to take these to get fixed, soon," Glenn muttered, and Serge nodded slightly. They _both_ needed to have their equipment looked at.

"Well, we don't have time to waste. Perhaps we'll come across a dragoon or a Deva as we go. The rumors of activity might herald bad things—the sooner we investigate the better."

Serge nodded and turned, taking the lead, wanting to make sure that any monsters got to _him_ first while Glenn was still recovering.


End file.
